


Wanna Be Yours

by khaleesimaka



Series: Soul Eater Fandom Events [3]
Category: Soul Eater
Genre: Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates, Blow Jobs, Cunnilingus, Demisexuality, Denial of Feelings, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, First Time Sex, First time for a lot of things, Fluff and Smut, Friends With Benefits AU, Mutual Pining, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, everything is consensual as well
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-05
Updated: 2017-02-05
Packaged: 2018-09-22 05:30:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 52,775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9585518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/khaleesimaka/pseuds/khaleesimaka
Summary: “Can you show me how to kiss someone?”It starts out as a simple request, but the one after it leaves Maka in a sexual mess she wasn’t expecting. The sex was meant to help her get over Soul. Not dig herself deeper into a hole and only make her love him even more. Friends With Benefits AU.





	1. Do I Wanna Know?

**Author's Note:**

> This is my entry for Resbang 2016. All artwork shown was done by fuzzyfur455 on tumblr who was also my partner for this fic, and I'm so thankful to have been partnered with her. She has been so patient and supportive of me over these last few months even when I've been lazy with writing or unmotivated or busy with other things; she still remained by me which I am so grateful for. Definitely go check out her blog to give her art some likes and/or reblogs. 
> 
> I hope y'all enjoy the fic!!

Maka makes a mental note to never trust Liz again.

Especially when it comes to blind dates.

Stabbing at her salad, she nods as her date goes on and on about his travels to third world countries, an attribute that’s wholly attractive. She always did find humbleness and charity an appeasing quality in a man, but this man lacks the former of the two. All he’s talked about for the last thirty minutes is himself and all the _noble deeds_ he’s done for the less fortunate; he hasn't asked a single question about her. It’s been all about him, him, him.

She prides herself in the ability to know when someone isn't genuine, and her date falls under the category. Every red flag in her mind has been flashing since he started talking. Since she first sat down and heard him speak. The egotism had been oozing off him when they first met, and she has no idea how Liz thinks this guy is right for her. His only reason for doing so much is so he has the chance to gloat to unsuspecting girls on the off chance he’ll get lucky.

Unlucky for him, though, Maka isn't dense.

“And then I went to--”

The Cantina Band song from Star Wars cuts him off and Maka jumps to dig for her phone, giving him an apologetic smile in the process while internally thanking every god in existence for the distraction.

“Sorry. I guess I forgot to put it on silent.” She pauses to look at the name on the screen even though she knows perfectly well who it is. “I'm sorry, but I really need to answer this.”

“Yeah, sure,” her date duly says, the charm and charisma disappearing in an instant as he leans back in his chair and pouts like a child. “I'll stay here.”

“It won't take more than a minute,” she promises.

Standing from her chair, she heads to the bathrooms.

“Thank you so much for calling,” she says once she's out of earshot of her date. “Now I can finally leave this horrid date.”

“You owe me for this,” Soul growls on the other end.

“I know, I know. I'll buy you ice cream for a month.”

“Make it pizza, and we have a deal.”

"You know too much of that stuff isn't good for you, right?"

“Bailing on guys before the _date_ ends doesn’t make you a good person either.”

"I know," she sighs, defeated by his words. "I promise this'll be the last time, though."

Soul snorts. "Sure. You want me to order pizza and you pick it up, or are you gonna do it all?"

"I'll pick it up on my way to the apartment."

"I'm putting extra pineapple on my side." He chuckles when Maka fake barfs. "See you in twenty."

"Bye."

Maka waits a minute or two after hanging up before walking back to the table with a somber smile.

"I'm so sorry to do this, but I have to go. One of my friends got sent to jail, and he doesn't have anyone besides me to bail him out," she says, gathering her purse. "I'll call you, though, and maybe we can go out again?"

Her date's mouth purses, and as if the night isn't terrible already, he gives her a once-over. His gaze lingers a little too long on her legs making her regret wearing a dress. She shifts her weight on her foot, unease creeping through her veins at the sly grin he gives her and the slight cock of his brow, and she's disgusted with herself for staying so long. Honestly, she should have learned her lesson to not trust Liz’s choice in men after the first two blind dates her friend set her up on.

All guys are the same; disgusting pigs who are looking to get laid.

Well, jokes on them because she isn't that desperate. She has standards.

"Sure," her date says, meeting her eyes again. "I had fun getting to know you, and I'd love to see you again."

"Likewise," she says with what she hopes is a sickening sweet smile to hide her lie.

"Bye, Maka."

"Bye."

She turns around and heads toward the exit with every intention of blocking any calls or texts from the guy as well as deleting his number. Along with this, she makes a mental note to turn down the next blind date Liz sets her up on.

* * *

“Why do you even agree to go on these dates?” Soul asks around a mouth full of pizza.

Maka wrinkles her nose as she swallows a bite from her own slice. “Don’t talk with your mouth full like that, Soul. It’s rude and gross.”

He rolls his eyes. “Says you.”

“Says every book out there about manners,” she retorts. “It’s common decency, and girls like it when a guy has some manners. That’s probably why you’re still single.”

“You sound like my brother,” Soul mumbles under his breath, but he finishes chewing before speaking again. “Considering you’re back here eating pizza with me instead of cozying up next to your date for tonight, I’d say your love life isn’t any more grand than mine. Especially when they all end the same way. So why’re you even going out with these guys?”

“I don’t know,” she shrugs.

She picks at her pizza crust, stalling before speaking again because, in truth, she does know. The reason she’s been on so many blind dates is because even though she’s been cold and cynical toward relationships in the past, a part of her is curious to know what it’s like to be in one. To have someone who makes her heart swell and warm with a single laugh, someone she thinks about constantly, someone she’s comfortable around. Even though she knows the risk of giving her all to the opposite sex, she still would like to know what it feels like to take that leap.

More importantly, she’s searching for someone who can replace the crush she has on her best friend and roommate. That's part of the reason why she's been on so many blind dates, why she agreed to go on this wild goose chase when Liz proposed it six months ago, but somehow she always finds herself back with Soul watching Netflix and eating junk food.

“I don’t know,” she repeats. “I guess a part of me wants to know what it’s like to be with someone romantically. I’ve never been on a real date before.”

Her cheeks burn at the admittance, and she lets out an airy laugh to release the tension knotted in her stomach. She doesn’t bother to spare a glance at Soul.

“I know how lame that makes me since you’re Mister Cool Guy who’s been on dozens of dates,” she mumbles when he doesn’t respond.

Soul snorts, and it only serves to drive the knife deeper.

“It's not lame. What's lame is that you think you would’ve had time to date before since you spent more time cooped up in the library while we were in college. You were in a long term relationship with books. You didn't have time for guys.”

Pouting, she glares at him. “That doesn't mean anything. You always brought me coffee when you were done with classes and spent time with me in the library and you still managed to find time to date.”

“That's ‘cause I was always dead tired after classes and didn't wanna walk back to the dorms,” he says, scratching the side of his face. “‘Sides, I was cool enough to date. No one wants to be with a bookworm.”

“You're not very helpful,” she says, her glare hardening. She pulls her feet onto the couch, slouches, and crosses her arms like a child who’s been denied extra candy. “It's not like you're out dating now. You've been single since we graduated so I guess the whole cool guy stuff wore out.”

“That’s ‘cause I don't wanna date.”

Maka’s brain latches onto his words and mulls them over for a brief second. He hasn't dated anyone in the last three years they've lived together; it's only been her. For someone who had dated a new girl every month and had a reputation in college (a huge feat for attending a large campus like theirs), Soul has been slacking in the romance department. She doesn't want to know why, but at the same time she does. They're selfish reasons, of course, and she'd only be asking to answer her own questions she's been trying to figure out for the last year.

Yet…

“Why is that?” she asks.

“Huh?”

“Why are you not going out on dates? You used to be a serial dater in college. What happened?”

His mouth opens and closes, sharp teeth digging into his bottom lip. He shifts his gaze away from her as he scratches his cheek -- a behavior she’s come to associate with him being nervous or unsure. Why he has any reason to be nervous now is beyond her, though. It's not like she asked him a complicated question that’ll determine the outcome of his life.

“I dunno,” he finally says, shrugging and grabbing another slice of pizza. “Guess I'm not interested in dating right now.”

His words sting more than they should while the bitter lump lodged in her throat keeps her from speaking. She finds nodding the easiest way to respond and picks at the crust of her half eaten slice of pizza, sprinkling the bread crumbs along the edge of her paper plate. It doesn't surprise her that Soul isn't interested in dating. He spent a good amount of their college years going out with girls including some time afterward so of course he'd want to take a break.

Still, it doesn't take away how pathetic she feels for at least _hoping_ she had a chance.

How laughable.

“Well, when you are ready to get back out there, I hope your luck is better than mine,” she says with a smile, ignoring the pain hidden behind it.

Soul stares at her for a few seconds, brows furrowed, before relaxing and returning the smile.

“You'll find someone too. And it'll be a guy who likes your bookworm tendencies and -- Augh! I'm joking, Maka,” he says when she glares at him, rubbing the spot where she had punched him.

“You really know how to woo a woman,” she bites. “It's no wonder why you're still single.”

“Oh, come on. Don't be like that--”

“I'm going to bed,” she says, placing her plate on the ottoman before standing. “As punishment, you can take care of the food.”

“Maka--”

“Good night, Soul.”

It's a few seconds before he responds. She's only an inch from her bedroom door when she hears the muttered reply.

* * *

When he hears her door shut, Soul relaxes and sighs.

He hates his undying ability to shatter potential moments that arise between them. Always choosing to go back to middle school insults and teasing rather than facing his feelings head on. A defense mechanism as old as time itself and more outdated than a tamagotchi holding onto its last bit of battery life. His one true art form since he realized his emotions for Maka ran deeper than friendship.

His chance to confess his love for Maka had been right in front of him, and he blew it. He had his chance to explain why he stopped dating, clear himself as being a serial dater, and tell her how much she means to him. Tell her the only reason he dated in the first place was in the hopes to get over her because it's always been her he’s wanted to be with. Since the first time he heard her laugh ring out like Vivaldi’s Spring symphony, saw her smile light up the room, and felt her touch burn his skin. Since they stayed up all night talking in the commons of their dorm, shared an umbrella on the way back from class, and made midnight runs for Jack in the Box tacos.

God, he's loved her for so long.

But what did he do instead? Teased her for being a bookworm and implied she wasn't interesting enough.

How pathetic.

At this point, it would take a miracle for Maka to see him as anything more than a friend. He's the furthest away from being her type and the furthest from being the guy who can sweep her off her feet. His track record proves that. She already thinks of him as a sleaze like her father -- _a man whore_ \-- even if it is a lie.

Sighing, Soul buries his unrequited feelings beneath three more slices of pizza and an entire bottle of soda.

* * *

The next day, Maka sits across from Liz for lunch, dreading the moment her friend asks about the blind date. They’ve only been at the restaurant for about fifteen minutes, but she knows the topic will arise once they give their order. It’s inevitable considering it is Liz who had set up the date in the first place.

And like clockwork, it happens.

“So, how was your date last night?” Liz casually asks, twirling her drink with her straw before taking a sip. Her mouth curves into a coy smile around it as she says, “Did you get laid?”

“Liz. Seriously?” Maka asks. “You know not everyone is like you and sleeps with someone on the first date, right?”

“I don't understand why not,” she says nonchalantly. “How else are you to know if they're good in bed or not?”

“You get to know them after a few dates, and then when you think you're ready—”

“Boring!” Liz interjects. “That's how old farts in the 1800’s did it, and in case you haven't noticed, there's a serious lack of horse drawn carriages parading around here. It’s the twenty-first century. Girls are free to fuck guys on the first date.”

“Maybe some people like being old-fashioned.”

“You mean virgins?” A small smile tucks away behind Liz’s mouth at her own joke before continuing. “So did you sleep with him or not? Or are you avoiding the question because you bailed? Again?”

Maka opens her mouth to tell Liz that she did indeed sleep with Hiro, but the moment the idea jumps to her mind, she chickens out. She shuts and purses her lips, rubbing her thumb along the edge of her glass, because her friend isn't that dumb. Liz probably already knows what Maka’s answer is without her having to say it especially considering how predictable Maka is when it comes to these specific situations. A fact that annoys her to no end because it doesn’t allow her to keep secrets from her friend, and knowing something Liz doesn’t would be nice for a change.

And yet...

“You bailed out,” Liz states after a minute of silence from Maka. “That makes this, what? The fifth date this month?”

“It’s the third,” Maka clarifies. “But I have a good reason for ditching this one.”

Liz’s brows lift as if asking her to continue.

“All we did was talk about him the entire time and how great and noble he is for doing so much charity work. I’m pretty sure more than half of what he said to me were lies, too. He never once asked about me, and when he did, he brought the subject back to himself.” Maka pauses to take a breath. “And when I asked if he wanted to meet again, he checked me out before saying yes. All he’s looking for is a good lay, and I refuse to be that kinda girl.”

“Oh no,” Liz mockingly says, “he did not check you out! What a sleaze ball. What’s a poor, single girl like you to do about a guy who wants to sleep with you?”

“He looked at me like I was a slab of meat,” she hisses. “You’re lucky I decided to be nice or else I would’ve kicked his ass at the table.”

“Not nice enough to fuck him, though.”

“Liz!”

“I know, I know.” Liz puts both her hands up in surrender. “You hate when I’m so crass in public, but, honestly, Maka, I’ve given you so many guys on a silver platter! And they’ve all been hot, and how do you repay me? You find something wrong about them so you can ditch them. This happens every time. Have you ever stopped to wonder why you’re not finding any of them at least _date-able_?”

Shrugging, Maka says, “Maybe because I’m not ready to date.”

“Bull-fucking-shit!” Liz says a little too loudly.

A few of the customers near them turn around to glare at her while Maka shushes her friend.

“No. I’m not gonna shut up because you and I both know why you’re like this.” Her tone isn’t as loud as before, but it’s low enough that others can’t hear their conversation, which is nice. “It’s because you’re madly in love with Soul, and none of these guys are good enough for you because they. Aren’t. Soul.”

Maka suppresses the need to roll her eyes. She’s heard this argument so many times before, and her response is the same every time.

“I’m not in love with Soul.”

“Oh, yes you are. You’ve been crushing on that boy since you two graduated college, but you’re too dense to admit it so you moved in with him. Which I should congratulate you for. Most girls find it difficult to live with their crushes. So tell me, how’s the sexual tension going for you?”

“There’s no sexual anything because I don’t like Soul,” Maka repeats a tad too aggressively. “And he doesn’t like me either. In that way.”

“You’re only lying to yourself, Maka, because it’s pretty damn clear to me and everyone else in a thirty mile radius of you two that you’re in love with him.”

She goes to refute Liz’s comment, but stops herself and slouches in her chair.

Deep down, she knows Liz is right. The only person she’s fooling by denying her feelings for Soul is herself even after being aware of her love for him for the last year, which has only made things worse around the apartment. If she sees him in one more state of vulnerability or a variation of undress, she may consider kissing him on the spot. It’s complete and utter hell seeing him prance around in his boxers, hair perfectly tousled and eyes lazier than normal, after showering or brushing his teeth. Sometimes she wants to kiss the edge of his mouth and tell him how cute he looks, but she restrains herself.

They’re friends.

Just friends.

“Even if I were to face the truth and admit I like him,” Maka says, ignoring the gleeful look on Liz’s face, “that doesn’t mean it’ll change anything. Soul doesn’t have romantic feelings for me, and I don’t want to ruin our friendship because I do.”

Liz’s excitement dissipates and her voice dulls as she says, “Obviously you’re too dense to see what’s right in front of you, so I’m not going to rebuttal your thought process. You already know what I have to say, anyways.”

“Thank--“

“But,” she cuts in, a smirk dancing around her mouth, “I will remind you that you need to get laid asap before you jump that poor boys bones.”

A squeak sounds from Maka’s throat and her face pales.

“Liz!”

“Sexual tension, Maka. It’s a thing,” he friend waves off. “Changing the subject before you die of a virgin’s embarrassment with dick talk, how’re things going at work?”

* * *

About three hours later, Maka arrives back at the apartment. She drops an arm full of bags onto the ground with a heavy sigh and slips out of her shoes. Liz had somehow coaxed her into going on a, quote, _much needed retail therapy session_ , which resulted in her coming home with clothes she doesn’t need. There’s barely any space in her closet now considering the amount of shopping sprees she’s done with Liz in the past. Granted, she could always sort through her belongings and donate some to charity, but that’s a chore for another day.

Hooking her fingers to the back of her shoes, she picks them and her bags up and takes them to her room. She hears the water running from the bathroom and the sound of someone showering, telling her exactly where Soul is.

“Soul?” she says to the door with no answer.

Stepping closer, she hears the faint sounds of jazz music and the low hum of her roommate singing along. She hesitates before knocking, debating on whether she should soak up a minute or two to listen to him -- his private concerts have always been her favorite perk of living with him -- but settles on knocking. It feels like an evasion of his privacy if she were to do so. The times she’s done it in the past were when he practiced pieces in his room; when they shared a paper thin wall and hearing the other couldn’t be avoided.

“Soul?” she adds with her knock.

He pauses in his humming, and she hears the curtain being moved to the side.

“Maka? That you?”

“Yeah. I wanted to let you know I’m home so you don’t walk around naked or something.”

“Thanks for the heads up.”

“No problem.” She moves to head back in the direction of her room, but turns to the bathroom door instead. “Do you want take out for dinner? My treat?”

“I can always eat. Especially since you’re buying,” he says, and she _hears_ the smug grin in his tone.

“Ass.”

Maka ignores the way her chest warms at the sound of his light chuckle.

“Get me my usual and add an order of crab puffs. Two if you want one.”

She wrinkles her nose. “I’ll order you two since you’re the one who likes them.”

“Thanks, Maka.”

Without replying, she heads to her room and dumps her bags and shoes in the space near her closet before falling on top of her bed. She sighs and stretches, the comfort of her mattress welcoming to her tired body, and pulls out her phone to order the food. Once she’s done, she gives herself a few minutes to enjoy the silence that surrounds her to replay the events of the day.

Liz’s persistence of her finding a fuck buddy -- a disgusting term, but there’s no way of putting it gently -- is incredible. She’s been telling Maka how badly she needs to get laid since they were in college, using Maka being away from her sleazy, overbearing Papa as an excuse along with the ideology that college is a time for new experiences. Joke was on her, though, because Maka was and still is the furthest from being that kind of girl.

It wasn’t like she hadn’t tried to have a fuck buddy in college. There had been a few guys that caught her eye in her study groups and classes that were all attractive in their own right -- definitely none that were so egotistical like her blind dates nor in it for a hump and dump. The issue laid in the fact that when Maka delved deeper into it, thought a little too much about sleeping with them for a night or two, she always found herself repulsed by it. She didn’t feel a connection or a reason to have sex with them. A connection that gave her reason to want to _be_ with them, rubbing their naked bodies against each other.

For the longest time, she had thought there was something wrong with her because she wasn’t sexually attracted to anyone of the opposite sex. She was broken, defective, the factory had forgotten to include the sex drive portion of her brain when assembling her. Her papa found it in himself to sleep around and have a different woman hanging off his arm every weekend, but she always struggled with it so of course there was something wrong with her.

That is, until last year when she started having perverted thoughts about her roommate.

Out of everyone in her life, it’s Soul she always came close to considering as someone she wouldn’t mind sleeping with. She trusts him, loves him, and knows he has her best intentions in mind. He isn’t the type of man who fucks a girl and leaves them alone and cold in a bed, forever wondering what she did wrong because he disappeared the next morning. Soul’s different; always was and always will be. He’s the first guy she chose to trust and become friends with, the guy she’s most comfortable being around, and she wouldn’t change that for anything. One of the reasons she agreed to share an apartment with him was because she knew he wouldn’t try to hit on her or purposefully walk in on her naked.

He respects her boundaries exactly like she respects him which is why she fell in love with him.

Or, maybe she had always been in love with him, but had always been to blind to see it.

“Who knew this would be so complicated,” she mutters to herself before crawling out of bed to change into her pajamas.

* * *

Soul’s drying his hair off when his phone buzzes on the bathroom counter. He spares a glance downward to see the first three letters of his brother’s full name before the backlight dims. A groan audibly passes through him as he hangs the towel back on the rack, careful to spread it out so as not to have an angered Maka get on his ass about mildew and the smell of wet dog, and points his attention back to the text. It doesn’t surprise him in the slightest when he reads Wes’s annoyance about their mother asking him how the younger Evans sibling is doing.

**Wesley Theodore: You know, instead of ignoring mom’s calls and texts, you could just give her a life update for once. I don’t like being the middleman.**

**Soul: All you have to do is tell her I’m not dead. It’s not that hard.**

In truth, there’s no good reason for Soul to be avoiding his mother’s attempts at contacting him. He adores his mother. She was the perfect half of his parents during his childhood and encouraged him to do what he wanted to do. The reason he hasn’t text her back or answered her calls has more to do with the fact that he knows his father is right there beside her, waiting to berate his younger son for how much of a fucked up job he’s doing in comparison to his eldest. A conversation Soul isn’t much fond of having at the moment when his life and career are both going the way he wants them to be.

Being a high school music teacher makes him happy. His father needs to understand that.

His phone buzzes again when he finishes putting on his pajama pants. Typing out an annoyed reply that rivals his brother’s, he heads out into the hallway and is too preoccupied putting the right amount of exclamation points and emojis to notice his roommates shorter frame walking in front of him, her own focus elsewhere. They end up colliding into each other, Maka with a small oof and Soul grunting at the impact. He instinctively puts his hands onto her shoulders to prevent her from falling back while her own lay flat against his bare chest.

Maka’s touch sears against his skin, his heart rate quickening by the second, and tries to ignore the flush crawling along his cheeks. He brushes away all the lovey dovey expressions that float to the forefront of his mind as he apologizes for bumping into her. Repressed feelings are the last thing he needs in this situation.

“Sorry. I didn’t see you there, Maka. You okay?”

It takes her a second, but she nods. “Mhm. Yeah. I’m fine. Should’ve been watching where I was going.”

Soul leans back to look down at her and ensure she’s truly fine because judging by her shaky and nervous voice, he doubts it. Her fingers curl into his chest, causing the heat to scorch harder and he thinks he might need another bath if only to scrub it and the emotions running through his blood away. He feels and hears her breathe heavily, the air cool against his skin. When she meets his gaze, his heart stutters. Rose pink is dusted over her cheeks giving her a lovely glow and green eyes are curtained behind blonde lashes giving her a sultry vibe that doesn’t fit their current stance.

Her tongue flicks out to wet her lips, and Soul almost -- _almost_ \-- leans down to kiss her. He restrains himself, though, because she’s his friend.

 _Just_ his friend.

No matter how much his heart begs to differ.

“Are _you_ okay?” she asks, shaking him from his daze.

“Uh…”

He glances away from her to the space between them, his face burning at the realization of how incredibly close they are. Or maybe it’s a combination of it and how adorable Maka looks wearing one of his old shirts.

Either way, he drops his hold on her, one hand rising to comb through his hair.

“‘Course I’m okay,” he lightly says. “Why wouldn’t I be? Short thing like you can’t do much damage to me.”

 _The old middle school insult approach_ , he thinks to himself. _Smooth._

Crossing her arms in front of her with a smirk, she says, “You know I can give you a bruise that’ll last for well over a week with one single punch, right?”

A grimace falls on Soul’s face as he remembers the last time Maka harmed someone with her fist. The great and mighty Black*Star did have it coming for teasing the pint-sized fighter, but he couldn’t use his left arm for two weeks.

“Not gonna argue with that.”

“Thought so.” She holds his gaze for a couple seconds before she stares away from him, her cheeks reddening. “Our dinner’s almost here so go put on a shirt or something. I’d rather not sit by you shirtless while eating, thanks.”

“Oh. Right,” Soul dumbly says. “I’ll go do that while you set everything up. It’s your turn to the pick the movie, but please no chick flick again.”

“Weren’t you the one who picked out the last chick flick?” Maka asks with a glint in her eyes and a cheeky grin.

“ _10 Things I Hate About You_ is technically a classic. It’s not on the same level as some mushy, romance movie that’s filled with cliches that makes you cringe every time you watch it.”

“Like _Titanic_?”

“ _Titanic_ is also a classic.”

“Don’t forget you’re the one who’s bought probably half of the romcoms in our movie collection.”

“I’m gonna go put a shirt on so I can avoid this conversation,” Soul grumbles.

As he’s passing Maka, she says, “I’ll just embarrass you later on then,” over her shoulder with a smile that makes his heart skip a beat.

How ironic.

* * *

Maka’s composure drops when she hears Soul’s door close.

A small sigh of relief escapes from her of its own accord as she rests her head against the wall, flexing her burning hands by her side. The feel of Soul’s skin still lingers; it’s warm and comforting and everything right in the world, but also wrong on so many levels because she hadn’t expected him to be so broad and muscular. For a guy who spent most of his days fanboying over new movie updates for Star Wars, she hadn’t realized he also worked out in his spare time. She didn’t know what laid hidden beneath his tacky rock band shirts and graphic tees with lame video game slogans on them.

But now that she did know, it only serves to worsen her situation.

Images of herself touching Soul’s chest in the most inappropriate ways dance behind her eyelids, her mouth ravishing every inch of him while his hands bury themselves in her hair. His breathy moans bouncing off the walls of her room as her nails press into his skin and scratch along a snowy happy trail to the waistband of his boxers. A coy look from her as she stares up at him beneath blonde lashes to see his heated gaze meet hers; Soul stifling a moan when she teases him by brushing her finger along the outline of his co--

No.

Her eyes fly open and she heads to the kitchen.

She won’t allow herself to have such perverted thoughts about her roommate/best friend. They share an apartment together, she’s used to seeing him walk around without a shirt on and the dazed look on his face when he brushes his teeth beside her. It’s part of their routine, their lifestyle, and she definitely doesn’t want her silly crush or erotic daydreams to interfere with that. What her and Soul have together is a good thing -- _a very good thing_ \-- and fuck her if she’s going to screw that up.

Setting down a can of Diet Coke and Sprite on the counter, though, it does nothing to silence the voice in her head that sounds oddly similar to Liz. The voice that eggs her on, begs for her to give into her desires, and to accept she’ll never stop loving Soul or wanting to be with him. Unless, maybe, she allows the pooling heat in her lower abdomen to take control. Maybe then, and only then, she’ll truly move on from Soul because isn’t there a saying about giving into temptation and being satisfied afterwards?

Probably not, but Maka may make one up if only for herself to believe in it.

A knock at the door draws her back to reality and her weekly night pigging out on takeout and watching crappy movies on Netflix with Soul. Typical experiences one has with her roommate. Not sexual encounters.

Nodding to herself, Maka tugs on the edge of her shirt, tosses her hair over her shoulder, and goes to answer the door. As she greets the delivery boy and signs the receipt, she promises herself not to let her hormones get the better of her tonight. She's an adult woman who’s fully capable to resist matters of lust and urges on her own and not allow them to interfere with her friendship.

At least, she hopes she is.

* * *

Unfortunate for Maka, she couldn’t have been more wrong.

The only reason she had chosen _The Notebook_ as their movie for the night was so she had the chance to tease Soul and his undying love for the romantic movie ( _it’s a classic_ , he tells her), but it didn’t end up like that. Well, it did… for a good five minutes before Maka was painfully reminded of how awfully great the movie is. For a film based off a Nicholas Sparks novel, _The Notebook_ has a great concept behind it. It knows where to hit even the most cynical of people in the heart with how cliche and wonderful Noah and Allie’s story is. Maka ends up finding herself absorbed in the movie, and it serves as a painful reminder of how her life doesn’t compare to Allie’s.

Unlike Allie, she hasn’t experienced what it’s like to kiss someone in the middle of the street or make love to them in an abandoned house. She’s a plain twenty-four year old woman who’s only experience with the opposite sex is cuddling with her best friend on the couch which doesn’t even count.

How she can think of sleeping with someone like Soul -- someone who’s definitely been with more people of the opposite sex than herself -- is embarrassing. She can’t compare to his past conquests. Girls who are no doubt like Liz and ooze confidence and sex appeal and shine brighter than someone like Maka. Someone whose stature resembles a twelve year old’s rather than the gorgeous sex symbols plastered on every issue of Cosmo.

It’s comical in the best situations, and yet…

A part of Maka is still curious.

“What’s it like?” Maka asks, idly munching on some popcorn.

Soul finishes chewing his crab rangoon before saying, “What’s what like?”

Maka glances at him beneath her lashes. “What’s it like to kiss someone?”

He makes a throaty noise that sounds close to a cough, but she keeps her gaze fixed on him.

“Wh-why do you wanna know?” he chokes out. “And why do you wanna know from _me_?”

“Because,” she shrugs, “you know what it’s like to be kissed, and I’m curious.”

She isn’t surprised by his reaction since they had never talked about Soul’s past conquests. Any time Liz thought to bring it up, Maka was always the one who either steered the conversation away from it or walked away entirely. Knowing what Soul did in his spare time had never been something she needed to know until now.

“Um, well… I’m not… I mean,” he stutters out.

“You’re not what?” she asks.

“I-I’m not sure how to explain it? I guess it’s one of those things you need to experience first hand? I mean -- why do you wanna know anyways, Maka? And why are you asking me instead of Liz? I’m sure she knows better than me.”

“Because Liz always veers it to another topic, and I know you. You aren’t the kinda person who’ll do that.”

“What other topics -- Nevermind. Don’t answer that. I know,” he says with a slight shudder. “But still, why now? We’ve known each other for years, and you’re just now bringing it up? It’s pretty random, don’t you think?”

“Not really considering Allie and Noah have made out god knows how many times since the start of the movie,” Maka says, nodding to the screen. “And I’m asking now because maybe I’ve been thinking it’s time for me to try it out or something.”

Averting her gaze from him, Maka chews on her bottom lip as heat rises to her cheeks. Her stomach twists and knots, the anxiety and embarrassment bundling up inside of her in respect to the words sitting at the tip of her tongue. She knew it was inevitable to admit to this.

“I’ve never dated let alone kissed anyone before, and I’m curious to know what it’s like. And since you’ve been with dozens of girls before, I thought maybe you could tell me.”

“You’ve never been with someone?”

“No,” she says, quietly. “And with me maybe seriously dating, I was wondering what it’s like to kiss someone since I’ll have to do it eventually.”

“You don’t exactly have the best track record when it comes to dating, Maka,” Soul says, a slight tinge of teasing in his voice.

“I mean really date.” Maka glances at him again, her gaze stern. “Not these silly blind dates Liz keeps setting me up on where I ditch them and run, but seriously finding someone to be with for the long run, you know?”

There’s a pause.

“Yeah, I do,” he says. It comes out like he’s telling her a secret; so quiet and calm.

Another pause.

“Kissing someone,” Soul starts and Maka’s attention is all on his words, “isn’t something you can read books about or learn from movies. You have to experience it for yourself and do what feels right in the situation.... With the right person.”

“So you just have to do it?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh,” is all Maka says and nods her head.

They sit there in silence as Allie and Noah venture out for a boat ride on the lake, but Maka’s thoughts are too preoccupied with the idea of kissing Soul. It’s the simplest of things she can ask him to do; the first step before asking if he wants to open a friends with benefits relationship with her. She’ll be acting out on her pent up, lustful hormones, but she is her father’s daughter after all. Even if she’d rather be in a relationship built on faith and love instead of lust compared to the old man, but isn’t that technically what she has with Soul? Their friendship has been founded on the idea that she trusts him above anyone else; it’s why she agreed to move into an apartment with him after they graduated college.

And she does indeed love him.

All she needs to do is take the plunge.

Mustering up the courage, Maka begrudgingly glances at Soul again, wanting to witness his reaction the moment it happens, and asks.

“Can you _show_ me how to kiss?”

* * *

Soul’s body freezes at her question. His Sprite can barely touches his lips as his mind processes and unfolds her question, taking it in for every meaning it can hide. Or maybe he misheard her because the Maka he knows wouldn’t be so bold to ask him such a thing.

“I-I mean as my friend,” she stammers out. “I know you don’t like me in that way, and I don’t like you like that either, but since I do plan on dating, I was thinking maybe it’d do me some good to practice kissing. And since you’re my best friend, I thought maybe you wouldn’t mind. But if you do, I understand! I don’t wanna pressure you into doing something you don’t want to do. It’s purely up to you.”

He sets his Sprite down and looks at her, eyes wide.

Definitely didn’t mishear her.

“Yo-you want me to show you how to kiss?” he asks for further clarification.

Maka’s mouth opens and closes like a fish before she finally says, “Yes?”

“Why?”

“Because you’re my best friend, and I trust you.”

Nodding, Soul drops his gaze to his lap.

Out of every possible situation he could have imagined earlier, this was by far the most outlandish one there was. Maka Albarn was asking him, Soul Evans, to kiss her. _Really_ kiss her even if she claims it’s purely for experimentation and practice which makes it sound like a science project. He doesn’t much care, though. She could ask him to experiment every type of kissing there is (French, Eskimo, butterfly, _anything_ ), and he’d probably still say yes because it gives him the opportunity to _kiss_ Maka fucking Albarn. The girl he’s had a crush on for years and has been wanting to be with for so long.

Even if she wants to kiss him purely for the experience.

Then again, this is Maka Albarn. She isn’t the type of girl who goes about kissing random boys and sleeping around. She doesn’t test the waters or jump into relationships on a whim (her reputation as a runaway dater is proof enough). No, instead Maka’s thorough and quizzical, goes about things in the most logical of senses, and above all else tends to over think, analyze, and worry far too much for her to be spontaneous. Which leads Soul to believe this isn’t a question she brought about just because; she must have been debating this for a while now.

Still, he can’t take advantage of her like that.

This is _Maka Albarn_ , the girl he’s madly in love with.

If he kisses her, he has to do things right. Hormones be damned.

“Before I give you an answer, I think I should tell you--” he starts before she interrupts him.

“I know.”

“You know?”

“Mhm,” she nods. “I know I’m not the type of girl you’re into or anything like that, so why would you want to kiss _me_? I have tiny tits and a boyish frame, there’s nothing at all appealing about me, so why would someone like you want to kiss me.” She drops her gaze and tugs on the edge of her pajama shorts. “But you don’t have to worry about me or my feelings because I don’t like you like that either.”

A sharp knife digs into his heart and twists at her words.

“So,” she continues, unaware of Souls world crumbling around him. “I thought maybe since we don’t have feelings for each other in that way, practicing kissing each other won’t be so bad? No strings attached and all that business.”

Her words sting and scorch his heart like a hot brand, but the way her blonde lashes frame around green eyes makes him ignore the pain. She’s beautiful and enticing and everything wonderful about a girl. He doesn’t think she’s unattractive or plain or anything else she said, but his old self did do damage to her self esteem in ways he wished it didn’t. Maybe if he had been a smarter nineteen year old back when they first met, he wouldn’t have concealed his affections for her with such hurtful taunts expected from a middle schooler. Not someone who’s meant to be an adult.

The damage has been done, though, in multitudes he can’t take back.

No matter how much he wants to.

Maka doesn’t love him the way he loves her, a truth he needs to suck up even if it hurts him to admit it. Maybe if he agrees to kiss her, it’ll help subside the emotions he feels for her and finally get over the crush he’s been harboring for years. It’s selfish and gross of him, but there’s no other way to do it. Kissing Maka now and moving on from her would be better than the pain that’ll follow seeing her date other guys and bringing them to the apartment and canoodling on the couch where he and her used to canoodle. His heart won’t weep over the loss, his jealousy won’t get in the way of their friendship, and his mind will finally be at ease.

So maybe agreeing to kiss Maka will do good for him.

It’s definitely worth the risk.

“Alright,” he says. “I’ll show you how to kiss.”

“Really?” she asks, surprise etched in her voice.

“I’ll help you with the kissing thing, but be warned, the kisses you have after this probably’ll be different.”

* * *

“I’ll take my chances,” Maka says a little too breathy.

A thick lump presses against her throat upon his agreeance. Her heart weighs heavy in her chest as a cold blade digs itself into it and twists to create excruciating pain. His lack of denial to her earlier accusation doesn’t go unnoticed by her, but it also doesn’t hide the fact he agreed to kiss her. She shouldn’t feel so light and giddy and excited like a high school girl being asked to attend prom with her crush because either way, the kiss is going to leave her broken hearted and empty.

Yet, she can’t help it.

He said yes.

She tries to remain calm and keep her crushing emotions at bay as she says, “So how should we do this?”

Soul glances towards the TV where Noah and Allie are waking up from their night of sexual trysts, Allie half naked as she paints, and Maka toys with the faint idea of how it must feel to see the love of your life after sex. She quickly pushes that idea away.

“Uh, I dunno,” he shrugs. “Usually couples don’t talk about kissing before they do it. It just happens.”

“Then show me how to do it when I’m with someone,” she says, tucking her legs beneath her on the couch as she turns to face him.

“Maka, that isn’t--”

Placing her hand on his arm, she squeezes and says, “Please?”

Sanguine eyes skitter down to where her hand rests and his cheeks turn a shade pink. Maka quickly drops her hold from him and gives him a soft smile.

“Sorry, I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable.”

“Like asking me to kiss you didn’t already?” he asks with a light laugh.

“If you don’t want to, then just say it and we can pretend this--”

“No, no,” he interjects. “I’ll do it--I want to do it. It’s just weird since you’re my best friend and all.”

“I know, but neither one of us has romantic feelings for the other so it’s not like we have anything to really worry about, right?”

It’s a last ditch effort to push out the truth from him, but when he gives her a solemn smile and nods, she knows her wishful thinking will remain the same. No matter how much she doesn’t want it to.

“A friend doing a favor for a friend.” Soul’s leg bounces slightly as he sighs. “Alright, so let’s do this like we’re actually together. Scoot closer to me, and I’ll put my arms around -- Ah, put your legs down, yeah like that. And then I’ll just… yep. That’s good.”

Her breathing is uneven and her heart beats a mile a minute as Soul cups his hand on her chin and lifts slightly so their lips are inches away. She can count the light freckles decorating his nose, his pale lashes surrounding his heavy gaze, and notices the small scar on his left cheek that never fully healed from when he was a kid. Up close, he’s more beautiful than she expected him to be, but isn’t at all surprised. Soul always did have features that could set any girls heart aflame, and Maka’s is working over time as the excitement in her chest travels down to settle between her thighs. It definitely won’t be easy to stop herself once they kiss, she knows it.

“So,” he says, voice nervous and shaky, “when you’re with someone, you two might be watching a movie together and sit on the couch like this and you two might look at each other and have a moment. That moment’ll lead to this.”

“What happens then?”

“Then, you, um, kiss.”

Anticipation bubbles in her stomach. She sucks in a deep breath, tasting the strong scent of his pinewood body wash, and her heartbeat quickens.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” he asks.

She almost hates his consistent need to be sure of things before doing them.

“Yes.”

He audibly swallows.

His lips press against hers before she has time to question whether she should close her eyes or not.

Sparks burst around her chest at the feel of his mouth on hers, the need to touch him tingles on her fingertips, and the familiar heat travels across her body. She fights back a moan as she relaxes against him, threading her hand through his hair to kiss him back; he makes a sound at her touch she thinks is a moan, but dismisses it right away. This moment is perfect and wonderful and she refuses to let any intrusive thoughts or needs get in the way. All that’s there is Soul, his lips, and the want burning in her lower abdomen.  

The word floats naturally across her mind, and Maka allows it to sink in to control her. She moves her mouth against him, savoring the way his mimics her motions, molds in perfect sync with her like a puzzle piece. Her nail beds dig into his scalp, a gruff groan emitting from his throat, and she breathes in heavily when she sucks his bottom lip. His hand grips her hip, pulling her toward him, as he kisses her back, hard and strong. It doesn’t feel weird or awkward to be kissing her best friend like she had originally expected it to. Rather, it feels right and wholesome and everything a kiss shouldn’t be given the circumstances.

Maka finds she doesn’t want it to end as the hand not in his hair grips his shirt.

All she wants, all she needs, is to feel him closer to her. His body pressed against her as he caresses her while she moans his name, that mouth of his kissing more than just her lips. In the back of her mind, the part slowly being filled with desire and need, she thinks _if Papa and Liz can have meaningless sex then so can I_.

* * *

In the back of his mind, he thinks of how well Maka kisses him, the expert way her lips move against his, how naturally everything falls into place after he had believed this would be a chaste kiss. It’s anything but that, though. He’s kissed a good amount of girls in his life via his poor attempts to get over Maka, and none of them have ever left him filled with so much _desire_. Her hand tugs harder on his hair, pulling him closer to her; he feels her body heat against his shirt as a small moan sounds from her throat. It does things in his groin he hasn’t experienced before save for the times he watched amateur porn on the nights he was really horny and desperate.

Soul strengthens his grip on her hip when she sucks on his bottom lip again, wanting nothing more than to feel her pressed against him. He kisses her back, relishing in the way another moan comes from her when he does so. It leaves him in a puddle of swirling heat in his lower abdomen. All he wants is her, her, her. Her sprawled out beneath him, moaning his name while his mouth savors every inch of her body, sucking the skin around her breasts, and spelling out the love he’s felt for her for years between her thighs.

 _Except she’s your friend_ , a voice whispers in the back of his head.

And it’s right.

Maka’s his friend, his best friend, and he’s doing her a favor by kissing her right now. She had said it herself before he agreed to do it; they’re only doing this because that’s what friends do. They take their best friends first kiss without admitting they love them and want to be with them. He really should have told her no, confessed how he felt about her, but that would have complicated things.

 _Aren’t you complicating things now_ , the voice asks.

He groans.

As much as he doesn’t want to, he pulls away from Maka, breaking the kiss, but he can’t use her like this. Especially not when his dick wants other things. Things he refuses to give into without knowing how she feels first.

Her emerald eyes are two shades darker when her eyes flutter open. He fights the urge to kiss them closed again and whisper sweet nothings against her skin. First, he needs to be honest with her.

“Maka, there’s something I need to--”

“Do you wanna have sex with me?” she asks.


	2. Collide

Maka wants nothing more than to retract her question.

Soul's jaw slackens, his brows furrow together as he processes her question, and he's ultimately rendered speechless on the spot. Her heart beats in rapid _thump, thump, thump_ in her chest. A small part of her wishes she had taken the time to think about her question and ways to bring the topic up because she doesn't think asking in a fit of hormonal needs was the right way to do it. She had only asked Soul to teach her how to kiss, which he did. It lacked the awkwardness she had anticipated, but it was a kiss nonetheless. If it was him teaching her, though, well, that was for someone else to judge.

Right now she had other matters to deal with.

"Wh-what?" he stammers out.

Her cheeks burn as she says, "Can we pretend I didn't ask that?"

"As much as I'd like that, I don't think I can."

 _Of course not_ , she thinks.

"Maka, did you just ask me to… Did you just ask if I wanna sleep with you?"

"You make it sound like it's bad," she lightly laughs to ease some of the tension building in her body.

"I think we should probably talk about this," he says.

Not saying anything, she nods because he's right. She had already ruined things simply by asking him to kiss her, and with the added question about sex, it's bound to only bring more awkwardness than she wants to the apartment. No matter how she spins this and tries to avoid this, Soul for sure won't forget it. No matter how hard she tries to do the same, she'll never forget it either. They're roommates, dammit. Best friends, even. Why she hadn't thought this all through, she doesn't know, but if time travel ever becomes a thing in the near future, she won't hesitate to go back to this moment and kick her own butt for being an idiot.

"Okay," she sighs. "I know me asking you-"

" _Why_ did you ask me that?" he cuts in. "How did you go from me teaching you how to kiss to me sleeping with you? I thought we were friends."

Glancing at him, he sees his eyes locked on her in search for answers. She would be too had the tables been turned. Especially when not a moment before they both agreed neither of them had feelings for the other. So she latches onto the first thought that floats through her mind.

"Liz gave me this really stupid idea earlier about finding a guy I can be friends with benefits with, and since you're my best friend, I thought maybe I'd ask you," she says quietly. "I know that's a stupid reason to ask if you'd sleep with me, but I thought maybe…"

She trails off, biting her lip.

His face twitches, the corners of his mouth forming a frown before it's replaced with his usual stoic expression. He runs a hand through his hair and relaxes against the couch.

"So basically me kissing you was a ploy for you to ask me to fuck you."

"Don't say it so unloving," she chides.

"Well, what do you want me to say, Maka?" His voice has a tinge of bitterness in it. "Make love? Weren't you the one who said you didn't have feelings for me? So if we have sex, what would it be? It'd be us fucking."

"It's not like I don't love you like a friend, though. That counts for something, right?"

"I guess," he pouts. "I'm still confused, though, why you'd even ask me? I thought you wanted to start dating? Do you want me to teach you how to kiss _and_ have sex?"

Maka falls silent.

To be honest, she didn't think this through; she didn't think any of this through. Her original intention had been to find out what it's like to kiss anyone - to kiss _Soul_ \- and she accomplished that. She had experienced her first kiss which was magical and wonderful and right, but now her sexual desires had gotten the best of her so that she's stuck in this situation. Stuck between the want to tell Soul she loves him and ask Soul to fuck her so she can get over him and date other guys without feeling as if her heart is attached to her roommate. But she also doesn't want Soul to know that.

"Maka?" Soul asks, drawing her out of her thoughts.

Sighing, she says, "I know you don't like me like that and you think I'm the least attractive person in the world, but yes. I want you to be the first guy I have sex with."

* * *

Soul allows her words to digest, soaking them in for all they're worth, before saying, "Maka, I don't wanna take advantage of you like that. I already took your first kiss, and now you want me to take away your first time? I think we should probably save something for the guy you love."

The words sound bitter coming from his mouth, but the poison seeping through his heart hurts a hell of a lot worse because he'll never be _that guy_. He'll be the best friend who watches the love of his life marry someone else, kiss someone else, have kids with someone else all while harboring the deep feelings he has for her. But he also can't force her to love him. If Maka doesn't share in the same feelings for him as he does for her, there isn't anything he can do about it. Including agreeing to have sex with her for the sake of having sex with her.

"There are plenty of other girls out there who have sex with random guys, Soul. Why should I be any different?"

"I'm not saying you shouldn't have sex with random guys," he defends. "I'm saying do you really want your best friend to be the guy who sleep with your first time?"

"Yes," she says like it's obvious. "I trust you. You're my best friend, and if I sleep with _anyone_ for the first time, I'd rather it be someone I know and trust instead of some random guy from Tinder."

"If that's the case, what's the difference between me and a guy you've been dating for a few months?"

"Seeing as I'm not dating anyone, it's easier for me to sleep with you than waiting."

A cold knife digs itself into his heart and twists at her words.

"You make it sound like you're settling," he says. "I don't want you to settle with me. I'd rather your first time be with someone you care for and love. Sex isn't something you do with just anyone. There are layers to it and it goes deeper than what some people lead it on to be, you know."

"And that's what I'm trying to tell you. I do care for and love you because you're my best friend. If I sleep with _anyone_ my first time, I'd prefer it be someone I trust, and I trust _you_." His gaze rises to meet her determined one as she continues. "You've slept with other girls before so why should I be any different? I even heard rumors that you," she sucks in a deep breath like it pains her to say her next words, "slept with Liz and you two are still friends. So what makes me different."

 _Because I love you_ , he thinks but doesn't say.

It does pain him to know Maka is aware of the rumor, though, she doesn't know the whole truth surrounding it. Him and Liz did spend a night together back when he was trying to find ways to get over Maka, back when he thought kissing other girls would help solve his problem. The most him and Liz did, however, was some hands stuff that didn't go anywhere since his dick refused to get fully hard and he was worried she'd get lockjaw with how long she spent giving him a blowjob. Their night ended with them marathoning the first season of Orphan Black.

Still, he doesn't tell this to Maka. Liz had told him she tried many times to tell her the truth with Maka refusing to believe her for each one.

"We're roommates, Maka," Soul says like it makes a difference. "Won't things be weird for us?"

"Not if we make it weird." There's a pause. "How about instead of continuously making excuses as to why we shouldn't have sex, you give me a straight yes or no answer?"

She's fed up with him.

By the tone of her voice, he knows she's tired of this argument and him beating around the bush and a small part of him is tired of it too. He wants to say yes to Maka, to ravish her in ways he's only dreamed of and imagined in the dark confines of his room at one in the morning. He wants to taste her, please her, hear his name moaned from her lips, but he also wants to do things the right way. He wants to tell her he loves her, take her on a few dates, kiss her in the faint light of the TV, and then maybe sleep with her. This isn't how he had pictured the topic of sex coming up, but she already said she only loves him as a friend. She doesn't share in the same feelings for him like he does for her.

Whether he wants something more with her or not, he has to respect that.

If he does say yes, though, he'll be doing so for selfish reasons.

Then again, she's asking him for her own selfish reasons too.

The couch squeaks and rises beside him as Maka stands up drawing him out of his thoughts. "I'll take your silence as a proper answer," she mumbles. "I'm gonna go to bed and pretend none of this happened tonight and hopefully you can too. I'll see you in the morning, Soul. Night."

She walks around the ottoman, and the words _selfish, selfish, selfish_ sound in his head. She's almost to the hallway when he stands up from the couch.

* * *

"Maka. Wait."

Her steps falter slightly as she stops in front of the hallway, pushing the pain twisting in her heart down until she can get to her room. The tears pricking her eyes burn, but she still manages to pull up her best stoic face in a refusal to let him see the hurt aching throughout her body as she turns to face him. Though, upon seeing his distraught face, she wants to yell at him for having the audacity to pretend he actually cares she's walking away. He's the one who denied her, not the other way around. He has no right to act as if his own heart is breaking because the person he loves turned down his request having sex with them.

Even if the idea is preposterous.

"What?" she chokes out, kicking herself for the way her voice breaks on the word.

If he notices, thought, he doesn't react.

"This won't change anything between us, right?"

"No. You're still my best friend and roommate. I just need some time to get over the embarrassment of-"

"That's not what I mean," he interjects. "I mean if I say yes to sleeping with you, it won't change anything between us, right?"

"Oh." A crack breaks through the cold darkness surrounding her heart, allowing a faint light to shine through, and her brain quickly connects the dots together. Not wanting to get ahead of herself, though, she says, "Of course not. We'll still be friends… Just friends with benefits. No strings attached. All that stuff they talk about in movies and shows."

"And since neither of us have deeper feelings for the other it won't be a problem?"

Soul phrases it like a question. As if he's trying to draw out some other truth from her, but she refuses to confess to how she feels for him. He doesn't love her like she loves him. It'll save her a lot more timy by denying her love and allowing things to run their course. Who knows, maybe sleeping with Soul or even another guy down the road will help her get over him. The thought leaves her feeling almost as sleazy as her papa throwing his love around to every woman north of Nevada.

"It'll be two friends helping each other get off until one of them finds someone else."

That addition makes her feel less like Spirit.

His Adam's apple bobs up and down before he nods, his mouth drawing into a straight line. "Alright. I'll sleep with you… as a friend."

Maka's eyes widen at his agreeance, and the crack in the darkness shatters to allow the light to engulf her heart. A few moments before he had been dancing around the subject, diverting her away from the idea of sleeping with him, and utterly refusing to flat out deny her. This was an unexpected occurrence. She feels lighter, happier, and has to pinch herself to be sure she hadn't gone to bed already and was currently dreaming. The feel of pain assures her she isn't. It isn't until Soul raises his brows at her she realizes she's been silent for a good couple minutes, staring at him dumbfounded and like an idiot probably.

"You having second thoughts now?" he asks with a wry smile.

"No," she says, her voice stronger compared to earlier. "I wasn't expecting you to say that is all. But okay. If you're sure that's what you want and you're okay with it."

He nods. "If you're okay with it then I am as well. We already kissed so what's left for us to potentially ruin our friendship, right?"

"Right." The word feels wrong, though, passing over her lips. A small part of her wants there to be more between them, but this is as good as anything. "So I guess we can talk more about this whole thing tomorrow?"

"I thought you wanted to do it tonight."

"I did, but I think we need to talk about this a bit more before we actually do anything. Logistics and technicalities and all that stuff."

"Maka, this isn't some kinda test we can study for."

"I know, but I think we should still have a discussion about this whole thing. Shouldn't we talk about what the other wants?"

"What's there to talk about?" he shrugs, and she's a little annoyed at how nonchalant he is. Has he never taken a reproductive class before? "It's just sex."

"It's not _just_ sex. It's also making sure the other is clean from STD's and using the proper protection and… Have you never had the sex talk before?"

His cheeks turn red as he says, "Yeah. Course I have. Wes gave it to me all the damn time and so did my parents."

"I don't think Wes is a very trustworthy person to talk to about sex."

"You're right, but it's not like I'm a complete idiot about all this. I get checked out once a year when I go home, and I'm good. I also have a box of condoms already. Are you on the pill?"

"I've never had sex in my life," she tells him bluntly. "What do you think?"

"So we'll use condoms as our protection, and I'll be sure to take things slow," he says. "Anything else you think we should talk about?"

Maka racks her brain, remembering every sex ed class she's had, every talk Liz has given her, and all the Cosmo articles she's read in her short twenty-four years of life, but comes up empty. There isn't particularly important she can think of for them to talk about before they sleep together. He's clean of STD's, she's definitely clean considering she's never had sex before. He agreed to use a condom (which she'll definitely ensure he does), and if need be, she can look into getting on the pill. Those are two important things to know before having sex with anyone, she believes. Save for one personal…

"Put clean sheets on your bed before we do anything tomorrow," she tells him.

"What makes you think we're doing this in my room?"

"Because we're definitely not having sex in my bed. I sleep there."

"And I don't sleep in my bed?"

"It's different. You're a guy, and guy's… masturbate in their beds all the time so you're used to sleeping in your own mess," she says with a blush.

"Girls masturbate, too, Maka

"Soul," she growls in warning.

"Fine." He puts his hands up in surrender. "We'll do it in my bed."

"Thank you. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm tired and need to go to sleep now. Goodnight again, Soul."

"Night."

Closing her bedroom door behind her, Maka falls back on it and sighs. She honestly doesn't know what she's getting herself into, but she feels a weird mixture of excitement and nerves bundle up in the pit of her stomach. After a few minutes, she heads to her bed where she pulls out her laptop to do an extensive Google search of what to expect her first time having sex.

* * *

Once Maka's door closes, Soul turns off the TV and heads to his own room where he turns on his laptop and indulges himself in an extensive Google search about sex. He doesn't know what he's getting himself into, but if he's going to sleep with Maka for her first time, he wants to at least pretend it isn't his own first time as well.

* * *

The next day, Soul finds himself in a Wal-Mart staring at an entire aisle filled with different brands of lube and condoms. He doesn't need the condoms thanks to Wes' undying need to buy him unnecessary and wild gifts for his birthday which makes the Costco size box of condoms stashed under his bed still usable, but the lube is another thing entirely. There had been articles he read in his research that said lube was an essential part in helping his partner orgasm, and since he wanted to make Maka's first time good, he wanted to use all the necessary items. And lube is definitely one of those essentials.

Except, the only problem is that there are so many different types of them.

He knows from his extensive research oil-based lubes are out of the question since they destroyed condoms making pregnancy a higher risk. Maka hadn't mentioned if she's on the pill or not when she brought the subject up last night, and he'd rather not risk going bareback before he knew for sure. Not to mention oil also stains sheets and clothing. The last thing he needs is for his brother to find the mess one day and forever tease him about it. Maybe if Maka wanted a nice massage from him in the future where he got her off with his hands and mouth rather than his dick…

Soul scowls and pushes the image his mind conjures up away.

That leaves him with only two options: either water-based or silicone-based lube.

Water-based lube is good for penetrative sex, easy to clean off bodies and sheets, and soothing for sensitive sex. He isn't sure what kind of skin Maka has (in a few short hours he'll be finding out) so taking the best precautions for it will be best. The only downside is water-based lube isn't good to use in the shower ironically and it dries out quicker. In comparison, silicone-based lube is better. They last longer, can be used in the shower, and are super slippery, a plus he finds pleasing with it being Maka's first time having sex. Soul isn't sure how wet she'll get or how long she'll last which makes buying this essential item even more important.

His only problem is deciding which brand.

Glancing down the aisle for any weird elderly women judging him, Soul pulls out his phone and goes to the notes he took earlier when doing his research. He glances at brand names he typed to compare them to the ones sitting before him to find half of them aren't carried by Wal-Mart, but the other half are. There's a good mixture of both water-based and silicone-based lubes magazine articles recommended to him as well as one or two artificially flavored lubes ideal for oral sex.

Soul isn't entirely sure if Maka would be interested in it, but he grabs pina colada and apple tart bottles of the flavored lube along with two bottles each of a water-based and silicone-based lube brand. One them are bound to work for the pair of them. He also grabs an extra box of condoms just in case the ones he has at the apartment don't cut it for Maka. Maka's pleasure is honestly more important than his so he'll look out for her however he can. Even if it means spending fifty bucks on sexual essentials and spending the next thirty minutes afterward with his ears burning and embarrassment pricking his skin as he drives back to the apartment.

She's worth it.

She's definitely worth it.

* * *

Maka checks her surroundings at the Barnes and Noble to ensure no one is watching her before she leaves the row of New Adult novels and heads to the section titled Sexuality. Her cheeks burn as she glances over the books in front of her, trying to focus in the spines rather than the conveniently placed book with a man and woman on the cover completely naked. This probably isn't the best way for her to learn about sex and everything that comes with it, but it's better than nothing.

She had read about every article Cosmo had on their website about the ordeal last night. She knew every way to enhance an orgasm, how to give a blowjob, which sex position worked best for what type of pleasure, how to create the perfect mood; everything. Except it didn't feel like she had enough information and needed more. The furthest her knowledge about sex went is what they taught her in sex ed and the numerous Colleen Hoover novels she had read, but it didn't hold a flame to actually partaking in the activity. A book written by a sex specialist should help her with her endeavor, but the further she searches, the least likely she is to buy any of these books.

They weren't at all subtle with their covers. The words 'orgasm' and 'sex' were all printed in bold print or had photos of a couple in the heat of the moment. None of them are novels she's comfortable with showing to the cashier.

Putting the fifteenth book she picked up, Maka gives up and leaves the store.

Her stomach knots as she drives back to their apartment, growing tighter and tighter the closer she gets. Every red light is a chance for her to take a deep, calming breath and soothe the nerves bundling up within her. She hasn't spoken to Soul all morning and left before he had a chance to ask her about tonight's festivities; she needed a chance to hype herself up for it. Maka knows she wants to have sex with Soul, she's ready to sleep with him, but he's still her best friend. Things are different. No matter how much she loves and cares for him, this isn't how she pictured being with him her first time.

Closing her eyes, she sighs.

 _You're doing this to get over Soul_ , she tells herself before stepping out of the car.

"Soul, I'm home!" Maka calls out as she drops her keys into the bowl by the door. A curse sounds in the direction of his room and something _thumps_ onto the floor. "Soul, you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine - Shit." Another _thump_. "Everything's cool. Just, uh, preparing."

"Preparing for what?" she asks, heading down the hallway.

He doesn't respond by the time she reaches his door. It's open a smidge and all she needs to do is push a it a bit more to see Soul standing by his bed holding two bottles peaking her curiosity a bit a more.

"What are you-"

"Maka!" he yelps and tries to hide the bottles behind his back. "What are you doing in here?"

She doesn't answer him, though, as her attention is drawn to the two boxes of condoms sitting on his bed. The smaller of the boxes isn't so intimidating compared to the one next to it, and she's grateful he thought about buying some kind of protection because that had been the last thing on her mind, except… Why did he feel a forty pack of condoms was necessary?

"How many times do you think we're going to have sex?" she asks before she can stop herself, her cheeks burning.

Soul follows her gaze and groans. "I didn't buy them. Wes got them for me for my last birthday 'cause you know how Wes is. I got the other."

"If you already had the big box then why'd you get the other one?"

"Because I figured the smaller box would scare you less," he shrugs. He drops his gaze from hers, mouth tied into a deep pout as his cheeks gain a little color. "I read dotted condoms help with your pleasure, and I thought we'd try them out to see if it's true. Or if you even like them."

"Oh." She's flattered and impressed by how the sweet his words her.

Honestly, she hadn't expected him to even be worried about her pleasure. Sex was just sex to guys, right? All they had to do was stick it in, give a few thrusts, and be done. Who cared if the girl had an orgasm or not? But the idea of Soul thinking about her, researching what would increase her pleasure, it makes her heart flutter and brings a smile to her face.

"Can I look at them?" she hesitantly asks.

"Uh, sure."

Maka crosses the distance between the door and his bed and picks up the smaller of the boxes. She isn't sure exactly what she's searching for - whether it's a paragraph of information or rave reviews from users or a detailed graph of the research behind the condoms - but the dots outlining the photo of the condom scares her. They don't look to be at all comfortable. Especially for a virgin like herself who's never had anything other than her fingers to pleasure herself with.

The other box is a Trojan pleasure pack with four different types of condoms that are less intimidating and rough looking.

"They're a little…," she starts before trailing off. She bites her lip before looking at Soul and continuing. "Maybe we should use one of the others first? I'm not sure how comfortable I am with you using these." She lifts the dotted condoms for emphasis. "I've never even had sex before. I don't want my first time to be completely terrible."

Hurt flashes over his face for a millisecond before his poker face covers it up, and she regrets hurting his ego. It isn't that she thinks he'll be terrible at sex - not for someone who's done it a hell lot more than her - but she's never heard of a good first time either.

"If you're comfortable with the other ones, it's fine."

After setting the box back down, she asks, "So what else did you buy?"

He seems to debate whether to include her in on his secrets or not before relinquishing and producing the two bottles from earlier. One says 'pina colada' on the front while other is black with the word 'platinum' down it's side. Maka can't make heads or tails of what they are, though. Her brow furrows as she takes the pina colada one, absorbing the word _edible_ printed in script below it.

"They're lube," Soul says upon noticing her confusion. "I read they help increase your pleasure as well."

"Why does it matter if it's edible, though?"

"That's for, uh…" He trails off and falls silent.

Maka glances at him to see his cheeks tinted wine red and her furrow deepens. Before she can ask what's wrong, he continues. Though, his voice is quieter, shyer, in comparison to what it had been a moment ago.

"That's for oral sex," he says bluntly.

The bottle falls from her hands and onto the bed like a hot coal as heat burns over her cheeks. She hadn't pictured his mouth being anywhere near her pussy when she had brought up the proposal, but now there were other factors involved like the fact if she receives, she also has to give in return. And the only dicks she's ever seen were the ones she saw in the few porn videos she had watched back in college purely for educational purposes and those weren't exactly true to life. She's never touched a man before let alone seen a normal sized dick.

"I've never given a blowjob before, " she says before she can stop herself.

Soul makes a slight choking noise beside her. "I-I wasn't expecting you to give me one."

"Then why else would you bring up oral sex?" she asks, turning to look at him before quickly averting her gaze again. "And isn't it normal for a girl to give a guy a blowjob if he… does the same for her?"

"Maka, how much… How much do you know about having sex?"

Her cheeks feel like they might burn off her face as she pouts and says, "I know the basics; I've watched a porn video or two before. I'm not completely clueless about it." She gives a small shrug. "You put it in, give a few thrusts, and it's done."

"Sex isn't like how it is in porn," he sighs. The bed dips as he sits down, and Maka manages to find the courage to stare at him, disappointed he keeps his own gaze to the ground, as he continues. "Porn stars are paid to fuck each other without any proper stimulation because they're trying to get done in fifteen minutes or less, and that's not what sex is. It's more than just me sticking my dick in you, giving a few thrusts, and being done. There's more… build-up to it."

There's something about the idea of Soul explaining how this all works to her that makes it more intimate and personal and excites her. The familiar heat in her lower abdomen she had felt when they kissed the night before returns like waves over her stomach and core. Her heart gives a few joyous beats as she sits down beside him, jolting when she catches the shift of his eyes as she smoothes her skirt over her thighs. It only serves to cause more excitement and nerves to bundle itself up within her.

"Build-up like what?" she asks.

"I don't-"

She places her hand over his wrist, cutting him off, and waits for him to connect his gaze with hers. When he does, she musters up every ounce of courage within her because if they're going to do this, she wants to know what she's walking into at least. Besides, this whole thing did start with a simple question so why not continue the trend.

"Show me," she says. "Please."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm sure," she says, strong.

Soul's mouth parts slightly; out of shock or want, she isn't sure. What she is sure of is the quickened beat of his pulse beneath her fingertips and the certainty coursing through her. If anyone were to be her first, she would want it to be him, the boy who's her best friend and who she trusts above everyone else. He had planned and prepped for their first time and even went as far as reading articles when he barely studied for anything in his entire life.

He shifts on the bed until their knees are inches apart, the material of his jeans burning against her exposed skin, and lifts his hand to gently cup her cheek like he had done the night before. Her heart beats faster, pounding in her chest and shaking her bones as she feels his breath ghost against her; the warmth of it cool against her burning skin. She notes how well her hand fits on the crook of his jaw as it cradles it, he beautiful way their differing tones seem to match and complete each other. It feels so perfect having him this close to her.

"If you wanna stop this at anytime, you can," he whispers, and a cold chill crawls down her spine like a spider. "You know that, right?"

All she can manage to do is nod and lick her lips before he leans in to chastely mold his own with hers. They're warm and soft at the touch, exactly like she remembers, and releases the wave of heat in her core to course through her body. Her toes curl on his carpet before she raises her knees slightly so that they sit comfortable on top of his, her hand slipping to tangle into his hair. A content sigh sounds from her at the time he lowly growls. It sets her blood to boil, a haze to cloud over her mind, and the want in her core to tighten. He deepens the kiss, pressing harder, needier, against her, and pushes her down onto the bed.

Her heart races when he rests a hand on her waist, the material of her shirt doing nothing to prevent her skin from burning at the contact. It's a wonder how she's lasted this long without jumping his bones or proposing they do this before because she doesn't think she can quit him after tonight. The kiss is too perfect, too sweet, and all she wants, all she desires, is to have him kiss every inch of her. To have his mouth suck on her tits, his tongue hot and warm against her nipples, and have him pleasure her until she's crying out into the dead of night.

She needs more of him - all of him.

She needs him in every aspect of her sexual desire.

Now.

This minute.

Maka kisses him back before tugging him away from her. His eyes are heavy lidded, a deep wine color as he stares down at her, lips plump and pink from their kissing. He doesn't say anything, though, when he goes back down to return to their activity which is adorable. She's happier than she should feel that he doesn't want to stop, but there are other things at play.

"Wait," she says, and he listens. The daze of their kissing dissipates from his face, concern taking it's place, and she quickly shakes her head. "I don't wanna stop. I wanted to ask if it's okay if you show me what the build-up's like without taking off my clothes?"

It's a weird request, but even if they're doing this as friends, she still wants to save the illusion of her naked body until they're actually to the sex part. She'd rather not disappointment him with her lack of sex appeal so soon.

"Yeah. Sure. If that's what you want."

"Good," is all she says before she pulls him in for more kissing.

They don't get far, though.

"Can I unbutton your shirt?" he asks.

"Why?" Maka asks, a little too roughly and he winces.

"So I can kiss your neck and chest a bit better?"

"Oh. Right. Umm, yeah, that's fine."

"Okay." Soul's brows furrow for a second. "Do you mind scooting up a bit so we aren't hanging off the side of my bed?"

Maka realizes that their legs are still dangling off his bed which can't be comfortable at all for him in the angle he's in. She's fine since she's the one laying on the bed, but his body is tilted oddly.

"Sorry," she says and scoots up with Soul following suit until they're both resting diagonally across the mattress. "Is that better?"

"Much."

She doesn't have time to respond before he returns to kissing her, and it isn't long after that when she feels his hands moving along her top to undo each button one by one. Her heart quickens as cool air sears her scorching skin. Maka gives a small whine at the lose of his mouth from hers, but it turns into a moan half way when he kisses down the length of her jaw, her neck, and along her collarbones. They do nothing to soothe her scorching skin, either; all they serve to do is make her desire increase in the pit of her stomach and the ache between her legs to tighten.

His tongue is hot as it licks across her collarbone. She doesn't notice his hand slip to her thigh until he's inching his way towards her panties, growing closer to her aching, throbbing core. Her eyes snap open when a finger brushes along her slit, the feel of them more enticing than she had anticipated and a needy sigh fills the air of his room. His light chuckle against her neck makes her want to slap, but she doesn't because all she can focus on is the location of his fingers and where they're going.

Her legs spread farther apart when he rests his hand above the elastic of her panties, toying with the material and teasing her. She waits and waits and _waits_ for him to slip his fingers beneath them, to touch her core, and make her cry out at his touch, but it never comes. He bides his time, licking the indent of her collarbone and kissing the nape of her neck which is fine and wonderful by all means. It's what she's been craving for far too long and it's nice to finally feel satiated in the kissing department, but there are also other needs she wants him to attend to.

"Are you going to do anything, yet?" she breathes out. She's almost embarrassed by how breathy her voice is until she hears his own.

"Impatient?" he asks, his tone deep and groggier than normal.

"Is this what you meant by build-up?"

"Kinda." Soul kisses the spot right below her jaw before raising his head. "Are you sure you wanna do _this_?"

It isn't phrased like he's addressing their current situation. Like he isn't asking for permission to slip his fingers inside her. It's more like he's asking her permission for what comes _afterwards_.

Maka cards a hand through his hair, enjoying the way his eyes flutter closed at her touch, and boldly kisses his forehead. They may not be a couple like she wishes they were, but they are friends, and she's more than grateful for him to be doing this for her. She's also more than sure she wants to be doing this with him.

"I told you, I'm sure," she whispers.

Soul's eyes search hers for a moment before he leans back down to kiss her neck. A moment later, she feels his hand slide beneath her panties and his fingers against her slit. The moan that breaks from her is involuntary, but filled with heat and need as she rests her head back against the mattress. She folds her arms over her eyes to shield them from his facial expression; she's far too afraid to know what he thinks of her noises or to see the enjoyment etched over his face.

His gaze bores into her skin as he delicately lays kisses along her jaw and neck. He's slow and careful. She grips her elbows as gravity feels lighter, freer, and she fears she might just float away at his touch and how much of a relief it is. She feels like she's been waiting for him to touch her, to get her off, for a century. Heat coils in her lower abdomen as breathy gasps dust over her arms, and his warm breathing soothes her skin.

Pleasure wraps around her body when his thumb presses against her clit. She throws her head back as a moan breaks from her and grips his shoulder. The orgasm isn't as strong or earth-shattering like she had read in raunchy novels, and she definitely doesn't overly moan and scream like in porn. It's slow, shakes her body, and has her crying out Soul's name to his ceiling before it turns into a weak moan, and she's stunned such a sound can even come from her.

She lays there panting for a few minutes afterward. Soul removes his fingers from inside her and kisses the crook of her neck, her jaw, and waits for her to gather her composure. The bed creaks as he moves to lay next to her, a small grin on his face.

"Is that what a build-up is like?" she asks, slightly out of breath.

"It's a taste of it." His tongue flicks out between his lips, and her core aches to have it pressed against her instead of his fingers. "Did you like it?"

Gathering her courage, she asks, "Can we do more of it tonight?"

* * *

Maka sits near the head of Soul's bed, her feet nervously tapping against his mattress as she waits for him to emerge from the bathroom. What he could possibly be doing in there is a mystery to her. She hadn't taken as long to primp herself for what they were about to do. All she had done was change into her usual pajama shirts, tie her hair up into a ponytail, and decided to go braless since the less clothes the better. At least, that's what Liz had explained to her back in college when they were going out to a college party fully expecting Maka to take one of the frat boys home or get laid.

She had spent most of the party with Soul playing card games.

The bathroom door opens, diverting her attention, and Soul emerges. He's wearing his usual pajamas which consist of sleep pants and one of his old shirts. She's ashamed to say she's disappointed he decided against going shirtless. Regardless, her nerves are still bouncing inside her like small bursts of electricity.

"Hey," she says with a small smile, hoping to ease some of the tension.

"Hey," he says, returning her smile.

He runs a hand through his hair and sighs before closing the distance between him and the bed. Standing at the edge of it, he tugs his collar, the hem of his shirt, and even rubs his hands over his sleep pants. It's adorable how nervous and anxious he is over what they're about to do especially considering what they had done earlier. A cool reflection of her own emotions that leaves her happy the feeling is mutual.

It makes this whole thing less awkward and weird.

"You nervous?" Maka asks.

Soul glances at her beneath his bangs with a boyish smile that's a mix of shy and humored over the situation, and she wants nothing more than to pull him on top of her and kiss it off his face. Bring back the heat of his stare and the desire in his touch she loves so much.

"Is it that obvious?"

"A little, but I'm nervous too if it makes you feel any better," she admits.

"Somehow it doesn't," he frowns. "You are okay with us doing this, right? It's not gonna change our friendship or anything. Is it?"

"It's a possibility." Maka licks her lips and sighs. "But, I don't think it'll happen for us. We both know this is just sex. A friend helping out another friend, and neither one us are going to get attached to the other."

Uncertainty crosses over his gaze, she sees something float up he wants to tell her. It's the same look he gets when he's thinking of something beyond her; the look he gets when he goes to the confines of his mind and remembers the things he keeps locked away. But it doesn't last for more than two seconds before the stony, uncaring expression he's schooled himself into reverting back to when he wants to hide something returns.

"A friend helping a friend. Nothing more."

His words are harmless. They should be harmless, but pain cracks over her heart and she buries them in with the memory of her papa and mama fighting. In with the memories of Spirit coming home smelling like another woman's perfume, his hair mused and tie skewed. Her mama's dark brown eyes glaring at him from across the breakfast table before she goes into a passive tyrant of hateful words and things she knows will hurt her husband more than anything.

Maka throws the love she feels for Soul along with them.

No sense in keeping them around.

She blinks, and the next moment Soul's kneeling in front of her, one hand gently cupping her face. It takes everything within her not to nuzzle her cheek against his touch, bathe in the feel of his calloused fingers against her smooth skin, or kiss his palm. Instead, she lets her eyes close, the anticipation of tonight's activity take control, and relishes in the feel of his mouth on hers.

They've kissed only three times so far, but each time has been more magical than the last. Each time she's amazed at how smooth and soft his lips are, how they expertly move and mold with her own. The way he sucks her bottom lip between his sharp teeth and rolls them over her flesh. It sends shivers cascading down her spine like the waves lapping up to kiss the sand before going back to sea. Even his hands fit perfectly on her hips, bending with the curvature of her body and his fingertips branding her skin.

Threading her hands through his hair, she tugs on the soft, white tufts and savors the low growls they emit from him. She digs her nails into his scalp when he sucks her lip again to see what kind of noise he'll make. Her eyebrow quirks when he moans, and she makes a mental note to definitely do that again if only to feel his deep voice vibrate against her chest once more.

He breaks away from the kiss and rests his forehead on top of hers, his eyes closed.

In the faint light sneaking in through his blinds, she makes out the freckles dotting his nose. The brown dots are so minuscule she never noticed them before. They remind her of constellations with how they speckle over his tan skin and cover the dips of his nose and fade out over his cheeks. She fights the urge to pepper kisses there, too afraid she might cross a line if she did so. Though, she figures it doesn't matter by this point. There are so many lines they're crossing by being in the same bed together.

"You still nervous?" he whispers, his deep, sanguine eyes scorching as he stares at her.

"Of course," she says. "It feels weird, you know? To be doing this with _you_?"

"You say that like it's a bad thing." He sounds a little hurt.

"I don't mean to. It's just you're my best friend, and I-"

"Never thought you'd be doing this with me."

It stings to hear him say it like that, but yes.

"But we'll still be friends, right? Even if this whole thing ends in a disaster or we find other people to date and kiss and... sleep with."

"'Course. You're my best friend. Nothing's gonna change that." His tongue flicks out to wet his lips, and it ghosts against her own making her shudder. "You ready?"

At her nod, he guides her down to the mattress until she lays flat on her back with him above her. Her heart picks up speed and her breathing comes out more rigid, but she doesn't miss a beat when his lips meet her's. They're slow, languid movement is matched by her, her eyelids fluttering closed as a hum vibrates from her throat, and an amicable heat pools in her lower abdomen when his hands slide up her side, brushing against her breasts. He cups them around her cheeks and deepens the kiss, his mouth slightly opening as he does so.

She thinks she feels his tongue swipe against her mouth, but dismisses it.

Probably a trick of her mind.

Vaguely, she toys with the idea of who he can be thinking of while making out with her. Which girl in his life is on his mind because she doesn't dare think for a second it's really, truly her he's kissing. Especially not with this amount of passion behind it - passion she's smart enough to know is reserved for someone he loves as more than a friend. She isn't about to fool herself into thinking Soul's demeanor, his actions and emotions are for her. She isn't going to allow herself to venture down that hopeful road only to be heartbroken at the end.

This is strictly sex - and only sex - with her best friend.

Nothing more, nothing less.

Without warning, Soul breaks away from her. Cold quickly creeps over the heat he leaves on her lips, and a small, pathetic whine sounds from her. The heat returns in a blush creeping over her cheeks.

"I didn't mean-" she starts before he speaks.

"You trust me?" he asks.

"Of course. Why would I-Oh."

Soul sits back on his hind legs and strips himself of his shirt, shaking his mopey hair in the process. Maka's gaze glues itself to his bare chest; her eyes widen and her fingertips tingle with the desire to touch him like she had when they bumped into him the day before. Except, instead of keeping them in one place, she wants to roam them all over his body and dig her nails over the subtle curves outlining his chest. She holds herself back from doing so, though, out of shock of him stripping in front of her.

For some odd reason, it didn't occur to her that sex called for them both to be naked. She didn't even realize at any point during this she would see more of Soul.

The blush on her face deepens at the idea of seeing his crotch along with the dirty thoughts that fly to the forefront of her mind. She doesn't think licking her best friend's abs is on the menu no matter how enticing it is to do so nor how much her perverted side begged to differ. It doesn't remove her want to dip her tongue in the crevices of his chest or the curves poking out on his stomach. Nor does it take away her need to make him moan and squirm beneath her while she scratches and kisses him.

Oh, Lord Jesus Christ on a cracker. This is definitely going to be harder than she originally imagined.

"What are you doing?" she finally squeaks once she finds her voice.

Though, she knows perfectly well what.

Shrugging, he says, "Figured we might as well get the awkward part over with, right?"

"By taking your shirt off?"

"Were you planning on doing this with yours on?"

"Well-no-I-argh," she stammers with a huff.

Of course she didn't plan on having sex with Soul with her shirt on; she knows perfectly well that one removes their clothing before having sex. She's a virgin, not an idiot. But, truth be told, she didn't exactly think this entire situation all the way through. Maka knew she'd be naked, but she hadn't thought the same for Soul.

Now that it's here - now that he's resting between her thighs half naked - the thought of him seeing her completely bare is both scary and thrilling.

The confidence she had when leaving her bra in her room evaporates into the ridiculing and teasing she had endured in middle and high school. Maybe this is a bad idea after all.

"I'm not exactly a large chested girl," she pouts. "So I may not be that appealing, and I want-"

"Maka."

His voice is so gentle and calm, and she melts into his bed sheets when her eyes meet his again.

"We don't have to do this if you aren't ready. I don't wanna push or force you into this."

Tracing the hem of her shirt, she shakes her head. "No. I do want to do this. I'm just... nervous. That's all."

"That's a good thing, remember?" His gaze shifts to the side before he speaks again. "And don't sell yourself so short. You have sex appeal."

Her cheeks burn for an entirely new reason and a spark of confidence surges through her.

Without hesitating, she sits up to take off her own shirt. She catches Soul's gaze dart briefly toward her and away again, his eyes wide and reflecting the same shock on her own had no doubt exuded because what the hell is she doing? This isn't like her; undressing in front of a man who she isn't in a romantic relationship with. Well, she did kind of ditch that train when she asked him to be friends with benefits.

Plus, he is her best friend and one of the only people she trusts above everyone else.

If she can't undress in front of him, who else is there?

Either way, her newfound confidence doesn't prevent her from covering her chest.

* * *

Soul needs to take a small breather before he continues things with Maka. He hadn't meant to see anything, he had expected she'd be wearing a bra because she's Maka, and Maka's the type of girl who would wear a bra when having sex even when she doesn't need too. What he hadn't expected was to see perky tits and rose colored buds. Those had been the farthest from his brain. The only reason he looked at her was to confirm if she was taking her shirt off or not; not to be a complete pervert.

His cheeks burn at the mere thought.

Reluctantly, Soul pulls his gaze back towards Maka. Her arms are crossed over her chest and a blush the same shade as her nipples dusts her cheeks. He scowls.

"Why are you covering yourself up?" he kicks himself for how perverted the question makes him seem. "I'm gonna see them eventually."

"I know," she says with a small pout, "but it's still just... I don't know. Weird?"

"I'm your best friend who you asked to have sex with you. I think we're passed this whole thing being weird."

He hates how excited he is at the prospect of seeing her beautiful perky breasts; hates the way the mere idea of them grinds his brain into mush. Then again, he's been in love with Maka since they were in college, and he's dreamed of this moment for a long time. Of course, the circumstances were on the opposite spectrum of them being friends with benefits.

Beggars can't be choosers, he supposes.

Maka opens her mouth to say something, but sighs and drops her arms instead. "There."

The world seems to slow as Soul stares at her, wide-eyed and his cheeks burning. Her breasts are small enough he suspects they'll fit in the palms of his hands and are the perfect size for kneading and mouthing them. He faintly wonders if she'll mewl and moan like she had done earlier when he fucked her with his fingers; if her back will arch to give him better access. Or if she'll thread her hands through his hair and tug on it, giving him chills along his scalp.

Secretly, he's disgusted with the way his hands itch to touch them and feels like he falls in the same category as her pig of a father. But he's also nothing like the old man. He doesn't sleep around or cheat on the woman he's supposed to be committed to (as if Soul's ever been in a real, long-term relationship before). So technically they're two completely different people.

It still doesn't make him feel anything less, though.

"I know they're not as big as you're used to," Maka says, drawing his gaze back to stern eyes. "There's nothing I can do about it, but hopefully it doesn't make you change your mind or-"

Her words are cut short as he grabs her wrists. Soul hears suck in a breath when he presses a small kiss on each one in the space where her veins are, and he feels her heart skip a beat. He doesn't allow himself to dwell too long on the thought, though, as he leans down to gently kiss her on the lips.

"I don't care," he tells her with a small smile. "I don't care what size tits you have because-"

Soul cuts himself off before he can utter the words sitting on the tip of his tongue and swallows them. Telling Maka he likes her tits no matter because they're her doesn't feel appropriate for friends who are screwing around with each other.

"Because why?" Maka asks, ever the curious one.

"Nothing. I..."

Wide green eyes stare up at him. They beg him to continue, to tell her every secret he holds in his heart, but he can't. He can't tell her the biggest one of them all; the one where he confesses how much he's loved all these years and wants to be with her as more than just friends. Not when it'll only leave him with a broken heart.

So instead he says, "I prefer small tits anyways."

She opens her mouth to say something, but a hiss comes out instead as he peppers small kisses along the length of her jaw and her neck. He trails them over her collarbones, relishing in the way she shakes and shudders beneath him. Her skin is warm and softer than he imagined it would be; the freckles that litter her face and body decorate along her chest. One in particular sits right below her left breast, and Soul kisses it before pressing his tongue to the curvature of her breast.

Maka's thighs clamp him place as a small mewl fills the room, and Soul can't help the grin that crosses his face at the sound of it. He palms her other breast while his tongue laps and sucks on her nipple, taking the pink bud between his lips until she's a shuddering mess. Her back arches to give him more access, and he feels his cock throb when she moans out his name, each letter coming out like a prayer.

He gives her nipples one last kiss each before he makes a line of kisses down her stomach to her bellybutton until he gets to the elastic of her shorts. Hooking a finger beneath them, Soul looks up at her beneath his bangs to see her watching him. Those deep green eyes are inquisitive, inviting, but he still asks for permission.

"May I?"

Biting her lip, she nods.

The garments seem to take forever to go down her long, long legs. It's amazing how someone who barely reaches his shoulder can be more leg than body, but truth be told, he's always had a love for them. They're toned and muscular, not a single blemish on them, and they always look good in shorts or a skirt. Soul's also had more than his fair share of wet dreams with them either wrapped around his waist or his face between her thighs, but all of it is becoming a reality tonight.

A fact that amazes and frightens him.

* * *

Maka swallows thickly as she watches Soul remove her shorts,. She keeps her gaze on him to see his reaction when he finally looks at her - really looks at her - because she needs to know. Needs to know what he thinks about her, what entices him, what disgusts him, if she even turns him on at all. Questions she's battled with herself for years trying to decipher, trying to figure out what the male gaze was attracted to because as far as she knew it sure as hell wasn't her.

She didn't have curves like Liz or a body boys masturbated to, she knew that, but she never cared what they thought of her.

The only person she cares about is Soul.

It takes what feels like an eternity for Soul's gaze to lock back onto her body. When it does, her heart gives a faithful leap at the way his eyes widen, the small smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, and the lustful darkness of his burgundy eyes. She tries not to let herself get too excited about it, but the way her stomach curls and heats up beneath it tells her it's impossible for her not to. Even when he's just a friend, just a boy she's crushed on for the last year, she still can't prevent the increasing need within her for his approval. It lets her know that maybe, just maybe, she isn't the plain girl she thought she was.

Just to be on the safe side, though, she asks, "Is something wrong?"

"No," he says a little too quickly. He coughs and shakes his head. "Nah. Everything's... good. You-you're beautiful."

A blush dusts over his cheeks as he says, and Maka can't help but to smile. Or ignore the way her heart flutters at his words.

"Thank you."

Soul merely nods before settling himself between her thighs. Her skin burns at the feel of his lips on her, the kisses branding themselves into her flesh as he makes his up, up, up. She feels her core ache with needy anticipation and braces herself for the feel of his tongue on her slit. The gasp she tries to hold back escapes from her unbidden and a fire ignites in her stomach. It flows through her lower abdomen, traveling up her navel and leaving red splotches over her chest.

His tongue gently laps at her slit, tentative and testing at first, and she senses more than feels his eyes watching her like they had done earlier. More than likely studying her movements and seeing what works for her and what doesn't as he slides a finger in her folds and languidly moves it inside her. Her arms cover her eyes as she arches her back and moans; the heat in her lower abdomen bursting throughout body and her mind growing muddier by the second. She's thankful for the hand on her hip because she thinks without it she might float away.

Maka isn't sure what she had expected before, or if she even knew what it would feel like to have Soul eating her out, his tongue lavishing her and tasting her, pressing against her bud as he pushes her to an orgasm, but she doesn't want him to stop. It's intoxicating. The feel of his callous fingers touching the most sensitive part of her body. Her moans are raw as they wrack through her throat, filling the darkness of his bedroom, until she feels herself growing closer and closer to the edge. Just one more flick is all she needs, but before she can orgasm, Soul removes his fingers from her and kisses her hip bone.

She glares down at him. Not on purpose; it's more a natural reaction.

"Why aren't you-"

"I'm sure you'll be able to recover," he says, going to grab one of the condoms from his night stand, "but I think it's best if we keep going. You're already pretty wet."

A blush dusts his cheeks as he slides out of his boxers, and Maka averts her gaze away from him for only a second before temptation gives in. His cock isn't as big as she's seen in the few pornos she's seen, but she does determine it's about average size for a regular man like Soul. It also isn't as scary as she had expected. There aren't any oversized veins going along the length of it or like it'll stretch her so much she'll have to go to the ER or something. To be honest, it's kind of cute.

"Please don't call it cute," Soul says, and Maka realizes she had said the word out loud.

"I didn't mean it like that!" she defends. "I meant it more like it isn't scary?"

"Maka, the last thing a guy wants is for a girl to call his dick cute."

"I know, but I didn't-" she cuts herself off and sighs. Cupping his face in her hands, she kisses him chastely and smiles. "If it'll make you feel better, I'll say it isn't cute and it's the biggest one I've ever seen."

His mouth twitches slightly, and he pushes her back down onto the bed with him hovering above her. "That's cause you haven't seen anyone else's until now."

"Can't you just take a compliment?"

Soul doesn't respond as he sheaths the condom over his dick and maneuvors himself between her legs. She braces herself on the bed, taking a steady, calming breath as she wraps her arms around him. The anticipation builds in her stomach and she gasps when he slides the head of his cock over her slit. He must take it the wrong way, though, because he kisses her forehead.

"If you don't wanna do this, you can stop me at any time," he whispers. "I'm not gonna be mad."

"No," she says, shaking her head and tightening her hold around him. "I want this. I'm sure of it. I trust you."

He wets his lips without commenting, and slowly, very slowly, slides himself inside her. It takes her a minute to adjust to his width, but she's surprised by how much it doesn't hurt her. She's read countless of stories about first time hurting or bleeding and had expected that for her own first time having sex, but the pain is nonexistent. Maybe it has something to do with the foreplay and him eating her out and being wet. Either way, she finds herself loving the feel of him inside her.

"You okay?" he asks.

"Yeah," she breaths. "It's just new, you know. Feeling you inside me, but I like it."

"Good," he says before pressing his lips to hers and slowly thrusts in and out of her.

Fire blossoms over her body at the feel of his body moving against hers, her own hips moving in time with his as she tries to concentrate on kissing him. It proves to be harder than expected, though. Her brain is fuzzy and filled with warmth, her body acting out on its own accord, and her breathing grows more ragged the faster his tempo increases. She ends up breaking away from the kiss while he rests his head in the crook of her shoulder.

His hot breath scorches over her skin, invading her senses and clouding her mind. She feels herself growing closer and closer to the edge, but it isn't until Soul's hand slithers between them and finds her core to stroke her clit she finally feels what she's been told is an orgasm. With a small cry of his name, her back arching into him, she digs her nails into his shoulders and shudders beneath him. A cool wave of content washes over her as she feels him reach his own orgasm; his cock and body doubling over on top of her as he moans out her own name. They lay there, neither moving, for a good minute or so.

Soul collapses onto the bed next to her, his chest mirroring her own as it rises and falls. Her legs are sore, the ecstasy and warmth of her orgasm slowly dissipating into the background, but she's immensely happy. She had thought sex for her first time would hurt or that she'd cry afterward but there isn't an ounce of sadness in her heart. There's only joy and content and nothing makes her happier.

"That was… amazing," she says after a moment.

"You liked it?"

"Mhm." Maka bites her lip and mulls over her next choice of words. "Did you?"

"It was… It was really cool."

She silently laughs to herself and shakes her head at his usage of a term she hasn't heard in years. It's cute how he reverts back to a shy, teenage boy who just had sex for the first time, and she leans over and kisses his cheek, relishing in the blush that blooms across his face.

"Do you think you'd like to try it again?" she asks, anxiety and nerves buzzing in her.

"Uh," he swallows, "sure. If you wanna then yeah. That's cool."


	3. Take Me to Church

The first two weeks of their new sexual relationship are spent exploring each others kinks and testing the waters.

Soul's experience with sex might be limited to a couple make out sessions, one failed blowjob, and things he's seen in porn, but he still wants to ensure Maka is comfortable. He understands the foundation of sex and the general gist of it (where the clitoris is being one thanks to Liz's thorough explanation once upon a time), and he pretends enough to get by. Pretends he knows how to move his hips and where to place his mouth on her body or even what to do with his tongue. It's easier, though, when he listens to Maka's moans.

Her mewls help guide him to know when to curl his fingers along her walls or when to suck on her clit. The subtle way her back arches lets him know when she's getting close to her climax, and when she threads her fingers through his hair and digs her nails into his scalp, he knows he's doing something right. But the most important thing he learns about Maka is the way she grabs her tits in her hands; the pink bud between her fingers as she squeezes them.

He pays close attention to it, his gaze locked onto it and saves it for future reference.

It isn't until he gives her breasts the full attention, being sure to lap and suck her nipples until she's a mewling mess, that he realizes they're her pleasure point. A kink, per say. She's into him playing with her tits, scraping his teeth along the flesh surrounding them, and he ensures he gives them the adequate amount of playtime each time they have sex. He doesn't mind, of course. Her tits are perfect and beautiful; the most enticing pink nipples against pale flesh he's ever seen.

They're so inherently Maka. It's incredible. They're small and perky, but hold so much power in them. They make her squirm and buck when he touches them, whine when he moves away from them, and make her moan out breathlessly.

Sometimes he marvels at the way they mold with his hands, fit into them so perfectly that he finds himself believing they were made for him. A funny idea when he really thought about it since they're just friends. Maka will never be with him romantically or outside of the four walls of his bedroom. She'll always remain the closest thing he's had to a good thing while he's stuck trying to find someone who'll replace her.

A terrible fate considering there's only one Maka.

But he'll take what he can get even when he's being a selfish prick. He'll enjoy the cry of his name as it slips out of her mouth like the sweet chime of a bell. He'll enjoy the moments he has her in his bed, the moments he's pleasuring her, because in some twisted way maybe it'll help him survive if and when he finds someone else.

* * *

Maka watches Soul between murky eyes as he sucks on her tits or eats her out. She pays close attention to the way he hums his approval against her skin when she arches her back or buries her hands in his hair to help guide him. They help her to know she's doing something right because even if she's having sex with Soul to get over him (it hasn't helped yet), she still wants to leave the experience learning more about sex than she knew before.

She wants to ensure whoever she ends up with in the grand scheme of things isn't disappointed she's not as talented as his past partners. Or that in some twisted way she can imagine it's Soul she's screwing in the future and not some other man she probably won't love as much as Soul. Not as hard as Soul.

Still, seeing the way he pleasures her - feeling the attention he gives her - it makes her feel selfish.

Soul kisses the space right above her bellybutton when she stops him from going further.

"Can we try something different tonight?"

They've been doing the same thing for the last two weeks which is fine. She loves having Soul please her and making her skin burn with the mere touch of his lips. But it's time for a change. He might be doing this for her because she asked him to, but she's also doing it for him.

"Like what?" he asks. A crease forms between his brows as he looks up at her. It's cute and boyish, but so him.

Pushing herself up onto her elbows, her gaze darts down to the bulge of his boxers, and she licks her lips. She's never given a blowjob before, but if sex with Soul is meant for her to have new experiences, she might as well try it out now when she can. When she's comfortable asking Soul for guidance.

"Do you mind if I get you off tonight rather than us having sex?"

He grins at her, his mouth tucking up in a way that makes her want to kiss it. "Are you getting bored?"

"Kinda. And I thought maybe switching it up a bit would be nice." She pauses, her heart rate increasing and her cheeks growing warmer by the second. "I've never given someone a blowjob before, and I kinda want to try it."

The grin falters slightly. Unease crosses his features for a moment before his schooled indifference returns, but he can't hide the blush engulfing his face.

"You sure?"

"Mhm," she nods.

"Alright."

Soul rubs the back of his neck before moving to switch places with her. He doesn't meet her gaze as she settles between his thighs in a similar fashion he had been moments before. Whether out of embarrassment or awkwardness, she isn't entirely sure. All she knows is seeing his bulge makes her beating heart pound against her chest, her palms sweaty, and her flesh warmer than before.

She licks her lips before sliding his boxers down, anticipation and want growing in her lower abdomen.

He isn't as big as she had suspected nor does he match what's advertised in porn; he's of average size, she judges, like what she had read in her Cosmo magazines. But it still doesn't take away how beautiful he is. She isn't at all disgusted or disturbed by his dick like she had expected herself to be, but rather intrigued. Grasping the base of him, she rubs her thumb along the velvet, smooth flesh and notes the small hiss he releases at her touch.

Her hand slowly rises along his length, experimenting with how it makes him feel like he's done with her so many times. She listens to the noises he makes, pays attention to his body moving lightly on the mattress. Every sigh, every moan, every groan doesn't go over her head as she pumps him. They excite and entice her; she wants to see what other sounds she can produce from him by her mere touch. Rubbing her thumb along the vein protruding on the underside makes him groan; brushing a finger across his tip makes him sigh contentedly; and pressing the flat of her tongue against him makes his lashes flutter over his tanned cheeks.

Maka keeps her green eyes focused on him as she licks and mouths him, massages her hands along his shaft. She notes every reaction, every jerk of his body, every movement of his hands as she does. He grips the bedsheets beneath, bundling them in his grasp and pressing his head to the wall. The guttural groan that erupts from him is hot, intimate, and she finds herself even more intrigued by him.

Performing sexual acts with Soul is definitely not how she had expected them to be.

She isn't disgusted or grossed out by him touching her, by her touching him. If anything, it turns her on more than anything and ignites the ache between her legs. It's sexy. Natural. Nice.

Smiling around his tip, she attempts to find out what other things she can do to him.

* * *

The last time someone had given Soul a blowjob, it had been Liz their junior year of college after a night of drinking and him confessing he'd never had sex before. She had offered her services to him since they were both aware she was no stranger to the activity, kneeled between his legs, pulled down his pants, and gripped his cock in her hands. Her mouth had been warm and nice, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't shake the gross, weird feeling it left on him.

It didn't have anything to do with Liz. Liz was beautiful and by all means sexy as fuck, even he knew she had a banging body, but she was also his friend.

After what felt like an hour of her sucking him off, though, his dick hadn't even hardened. It remained limp and sad in Liz's pretty manicured hand. The most disappointing part of that night had been when she patted his thigh and gave him a sympathetic smile. Like she was telling him better game next time, sorry you didn't make the team.

Now, though, with Maka, Soul's amazed with how long he's able to last, at the burning desire swooping in his lower abdomen as she mouths and licks the head of his cock. It's nothing like last time; he isn't disgusted or disturbed his best friend is between his legs with his cock in her mouth. He's intrigued by those dark green eyes seeing him in all his glory, the way she moves back slightly to pump her hand against his length, the way her thumb presses against the thick vein.

He throws his head back as a guttural groan rocks through his body at the feel of her hot tongue licking up his shaft. Her mouth covers his tip, her tongue swirling along the surface of him while her hand pumps the length of him she can't reach. It sets his body to burn, the love and desire he feels for her to course through his blood, and he feels closer to her than he did before. This is definitely a much better blowjob than the one he had before. So much better.

His toes curl and his knee jerks when he feels himself close to climaxing. If his muddled brains memory is correct, Liz had told him it's common courtesy to warn a girl before he cums in her mouth. Something about the taste or texture or something. Hell if he knows.

"Shit. Fuck," he breathes out. "Maka, I'm gonna-shit."

The words get lodge in his throat, and he prays she understands what he's trying to tell her. He even tugs on her hair in warning because she can't be so dense. She does at least understand the concept of sex, and they've fucked each other enough times for her to _know_ when he's gonna orgasm, right?

Apparently, she doesn't.

Soul's orgasm comes hard and stronger than what he's felt in the times he's masturbated, and yet Maka keeps her mouth over him. He watches her through his half-lidded eyes, apologizing in his head for coming in her mouth, but she doesn't seem to be angry with him. She wipes the side of her mouth which is hotter than it shoulder be and smiles.

"Was it good?" she asks.

He blinks a few times, runs a hand through his hair, and nods. "It was fucking awesome."

She blushes a faint pink. "I'm glad. I was worried I'd be bad at it."

"You were fucking great," he chokes out. "But you didn't have to swallow."

Maka shrugs. "But that's what they do in porn, right?"

"I told you, sex isn't like it is in porn. You aren't gonna offend me if you take your mouth off my dick."

"But you don't move away from me when I orgasm. Isn't it like returning the favor or something."

"I don't move away 'cause I-" He cuts himself off and blushes harder. "I like the taste of you."

Her eyes grow wider at his words, and he might enjoy it a little too much how embarrassed she seems by the statement.

"You don't have to say that to make me feel better," she says, resting her chin in her palm and staring at the opposite end of the room. "I can handle it if you don't enjoy it too."

"I'm not saying that to make you feel better, Maka. I mean it."

That only serves to make her blush deepen, and Soul smugly grins to himself. She's adorable when she's flustered and embarrassed; her cheeks turn the cutest shade of pink he wants nothing more than to pepper kisses onto. Spread the pink across the rest of her body.

"Whatever," she says. "It doesn't matter. I'm getting hungry. Do you wanna go out to get something or cook here?"

"We can go out," he shrugs.

"Okay. Well, first I need to... take care of things before we go, so if you'll excuse me."

She scoots over to the edge of his bed and starts gathering her clothes he had discarded on the other side. It's a second later he connects the dots, noticing the way her thighs rub together, and he reaches out to gently tug on her wrist. Her green eyes are bright and wide as she turns to stare at him. Their color has turned two shades compared to what they are normally, and she reminds him of a doe in the meadow, graceful and beautiful.

"I can help, if you want."

* * *

It amazes her still, even after two weeks, of how natural and carefree their friendship remains.

Even when they spend their nights wrapped up in the sheets of Soul's bed, exploring each other's bodies, and seeing the other naked, they still manage to remain exactly like they had been before. Soul still jokes and teases her for the dumbest things like chiding her over her choice in getting a chicken sandwich at a burger joint. Or ruffling her hair when she says something dumb and embarrassing, telling her how adorable she is when her nose scrunches. It's a comfort knowing their friendship is still strong given the circumstance of what they do behind closed doors.

Needless to say, she's happy to still be able to hang out with her best friend like before. As if nothing's changed between them.

What she can't take, though, is the jealousy brewing in the pit of her stomach every time their waitress comes to the table. She's a cute girl, probably in her late teens or early twenties, but the sly glances she gives to Soul each time she comes over or the way she keeps her attention on him when she's addressing Maka, annoys her. It also doesn't help her chest size is much larger in comparison to Maka's. Even if Soul said he likes small breasts over large ones, it doesn't ease the green monster raging inside her.

Though, in all honesty, she doesn't blame the girl.

Soul is a handsome young man especially today. He's wearing his leather jacket that smells of wind and pine needles a familiar scent she's come to associate with his bike and the feel of his chest beneath her arms as she holds onto him. His hair is the styled messy perfection he strives to achieve, though, today it seems to be even messier since he didn't bother to fix it when they left. A lasting sign that she had ran her hands through it when he was between her legs. There's even a small patch of scruff outlining his jaw and chin that makes him even more handsome.

To any sane female, he's the spitting image of the rugged motorcycle guy who comes rolling into town to turn her world upside down. The bad boy.

Jokes on the waitress because Soul Put a Coaster Under Your Cup Please Evans is the farthest from being a typical bad guy.

"Are you okay?" Soul asks, drawing her from her thoughts. "You've been scowling at your food for the last ten minutes. Did the chicken do something to you?"

"No," she says before taking a bite out of it. "It's just... does the waitress seem a little hands-y to you? Or too flirty or something?"

"She seems pretty normal to me," he shrugs. "Why? Do you think she's being flirty?"

"She seems to like you," Maka bluntly says. She picks her gaze up to watch him for any sort of reaction, but the only thing he does is shrug again and stuff more fries into his mouth.

"Is that a bad thing?"

"It's not, but..." She stops herself from saying more and bites her lip.

It isn't like they're together anyways. If the waitress likes Soul and he wants to date them, who is Maka to stand between them? They may be fucking each other senseless and making out in bed, but it doesn't give her a hand on who Soul can date and who he can't. He's a single man who is more than free to date anyone he wants. And she's a single woman who will respect that no matter what.

Soul isn't her property, she reminds herself.

"If you want to date her," her heart twists at her words, but she continues, "you can. I want you to know you aren't tied down to staying single because we... you know."

"Maka, what are you-"

"I want to make sure you know that," she interrupts. "I don't want you to think I have some kind of hold on you because we sleep together occasionally. It isn't like that between us. You're free to date, and we can end this thing whenever."

It's funny how the tables have turned on who's remind whom they can leave the friends with benefits relationship whenever, but Soul doesn't comment if he notices. He only nods.

"So I talked to Wes the other day, " he says as a topic changer. "He told me he got a new cat."

"A cat? I thought your brother doesn't do animals."

"Apparently my Gran adopted it, but it seemed to enjoy Wes' company more." He sighs. "Fucker's even asked me to babysit it for him while he's away on business."

"I thought you were allergic to cats."

"I am, and Wes knows that. But he said since my allergies won't kill me, he thinks it'll be fine to dump the cat with us for a few days." Crimson eyes flick up to meet hers briefly before dropping back to his food. "That is unless you don't mind."

She takes a second longer than it should to figure out what he's implying, and she giggles and shakes her hand. "You want me to say no so you don't have to endure sneezing for two days, don't you?"

"Come on, Maka. Do you really want a cat in our apartment?"

"It's only two days, though. Wes doesn't stay away for that long. It's just a weekend."

"A weekend where I sneeze up my guts."

"That's physically impossible and you know it." He glares at her and she giggles again because it doesn't intimidate her one bit. She's used to his scowls and death stares and indifference; she's been friends with him for years that each one simply rolls off her shoulders. "I think having a cat in the apartment will be fun. Is it a kitten?"

"Maka, you're seriously missing the point here. My brother can't dump an allergy-inducing animal at our front porch and get away with it. There has to be some kinda law against it."

"Good thing there isn't," she grins. "So is it a kitten?"

Soul groans and leans back in his booth to dig for his phone. "I'm not gonna win, am I?"

"Nope."

"Obviously not." He scrolls through his phone for a second before handing it to Maka. "That's what she looks like."

The kitten on his screen is pure black with bright yellow eyes and bright pink collar. She has a toy mouse in her mouth, her front paws holding onto the side of it, and she's absolutely adorable. Maka coos over how tiny is which earns her a groan and an eye roll from Soul.

"She's cute!" Maka says, giving the phone back to Soul. "I don't understand why you don't want to take care of her."

"'Cause I'm allergic. You really wanna deal with me sneezing for an entire weekend?"

"I'll buy you some Zyrtec, and you'll be fine," Maka waves as if his words are smoke. "It's just two days. What will it hurt?"

"My sinuses," Soul grumps.

She rubs her foot on the side of his leg to catch his attention again, and when he reluctantly looks up at her, she smiles. "It'll be okay. I promise. You'll be fine."

Soul opens his mouth to respond, but the waitress comes back.

"How's the food? Can I get you anything else? More water?"

Maka doesn't miss how the waitress addresses the question to Soul, her brown ponytail bouncing each time she asks a question. She's far too perky, Maka thinks, and far too happy to be someone Soul would be into. Then again, she's also perky and happy most of the time even with her moments, and Soul is friends with her so there's a possibility...

Her thought process is disrupted when Soul grunts in response to the waitress before he talks to Maka again.

"If you want the cat to stay at our apartment, fine, but you have to vacuum when the fur ball leaves."

A burst of warm happiness oozes over her heart at the waitress' defeated turn more than it should, but Maka doesn't dwell on it too long. The poor girl doesn't know Soul is naturally a grumpy pants and treats practically anyone - especially Maka - with answers that are either grunts or groans or sighs. It's nothing personal to her.

They spend the rest of their meal arguing over the fundamentals of buying cat toys and treats for a two day trip that's a month away. The waitress comes by again to pick up their plates and refill their glasses and give them the check. Maka thinks for a moment the girl's given up on her pursuit to flirt with Soul, but then she sets the tray of dirty dishes down and holds her shoulders back. That sickly, sweet smile she's been giving him the entire time returns to her face, and Maka feels her heartbreaking when she speaks.

"I don't usually do this, but you're hot," the waitress tells him. Soul blinks, completely thrown off guard, and Maka idly sucks at her drink staring anywhere but at him. "I was wondering if you'd like to get coffee sometime? My treat?"

"I-uh," he manages to say.

Maka's seen him in so many similar situations in the past. She recognizes his gapping mouth, the quick dart of his eyes as he looks at her for support, but she can't be his support here for the up tenth time. She can't watch as he gives this girl his number and ending the secret relationship they're keeping behind closed doors. She can't handle him ditching her for a girl he barely knows, seeing her curled up next to him on their couch, on their designated movie night.

She just can't.

"I'm gonna wait for you outside," Maka quietly says as she slips out of the booth.

"Maka," he calls out, but she exits the door without sparing a glance back.

Once outside, she presses herself against the cool glass of the restaurant front and waits for him. She closes her eyes and fights back the tears pricking them and tries to smother the pain searing over her heart. They aren't together - at least, not romantically. He's free to date anyone he wants, kiss anyone he wants, screw around with anyone he wants. Soul is his own person, and she doesn't have any claim on him. Friends with benefits means they aren't tied to remain together. It's sex without love and the added effect of a romantic relationship.

Then why does it hurt her so much that he might actually be interested in another girl.

The door the restaurant opens again, and Maka turns her gaze to meet Soul as he tightens his leather jacket around himself and adjusts the collar. He doesn't say anything about him and the waitress, but the scowl on his face is telling enough. She didn't get his number and he didn't get hers; there won't be a coffee date for the pair of them. Ever.

"Guess we should head back back to the apartment?" he asks.

"Did you want to go anywhere?"

"Not really. It's Saturday, and the mall has... people." His face pulls up at the idea of crowds and having to fight against them, and Maka lightly laughs. "Did you wanna go somewhere?"

"Can we stop by a Redbox and rent a movie?"

"What movie is out that you wanna rent?"

"It's technically supposed to be a horror movie," his face scrunches at the word _horror_ , "but Kid told me it's kinda dumb. He doesn't recommend it, but it looks fun based on the trailers."

"So you're gonna make me watch a horror movie and take care of my brother's cat for a weekend. Don't know which ones worse," he mutters.

Maka pushes herself off the wall and starts walking down the sidewalk. Grinning over her shoulder, she says, "I promise I'll make it up to you after the movie."

That seems to get his attention as he speed walks to catch up with her. He grabs her wrist and spins her around. A giggle bubbles up from her at the look of curiosity etched on his face, the smug grin he's been giving her more and more these last few weeks making an appearance once more.

"Make it up to me how?"

"You'll see."

He mulls it over, probably debating whether or not it's a good idea to allow her such freedom with a horror movie. Horror movies are the bane of his existence, the evil that lurks in his bedroom, and he hasn't seen one since he was eight because Wes forced him to watch Dawn of the Dead. An old, lame horror movie if Maka's any expert, but it was enough to scar him for the rest of his life. She had to let him sleep over in her dorm room after they watched Insidious because his roommate was gone and he didn't feel comfortable sleeping in his room alone.

She had a slight feeling tonight might be the same.

All the more reason to watch a horror movie together.

"Fine. We'll watch your horror movie, but if I get scared, you're sleeping in my bed for the night."

"Deal," she grins.

They stand there for a few seconds, the chill air whipping around them and blowing their hair this way and that. The flap of jacket moves when the wind goes beneath it, and Maka grips it without realizing what she's doing. She smooths it out over his chest, her hands lingering over his pecs a little longer than they should, and glances up at him from beneath her bangs.

"I like this jacket on you. It looks good," she says, a small burst of heat crossing over her cheeks as she says it.

Not waiting for his response, she turns on her heels and heads over to where the bike is parked. The stunned look on his face and the blush dusting over his face goes unnoticed by her.

* * *

Soul tries to control his breathing as Maka sinks down on top of him, but he sighs contentedly, breathing, at the feel of her wrapped around his dick. His eyes flutter closed in an uncool way, and his head bangs against his headboard as he throws it back. She's so warm, so wet on his dick, and the kisses she rests on his neck are so enticing, heart shattering.

They're small and gentle; the complete opposite of his own when he kisses the space below her jaw. Then again, this is Maka. Maka the girl who tends to take things slow and not so rough with him even though she practically begs him to use his teeth every chance he can. Her lips ghost down his neck as she hums her pleasure and buries her face in the space there.

She had promised to make up for having him watch a horror movie, and fuck is she.

When she had suggested they try a new position, her riding him in his lap had been the last thing on his mind. He had expected her to say they try doggy style or her on top or something. Not him sitting against his headboard with her in his lap. It's a weird variation of the cowgirl position, but he'll take it. Especially when she had mentioned she read somewhere it helps enhance her orgasm.

Hell, he'll try anything if it means better pleasure for her.

Another content sigh from fills the room as he grips her hips and helps guide them up and down. He drags his teeth along her neck, scratching her pale, delicate skin, and soothing it with his tongue afterward. She hisses and throws her head back.

He's gaze drops down to her bare chest, and it's so tempting to take one of her breasts in his mouth and suck on it. But in their current position, he doesn't know how it'll work. There's a weird height difference between them that isn't there normally, and he isn't as flexible as she is. So instead he settles on kissing her collarbone and kneading her breasts in the palm of his hands. She mewls and praises him to keep going, her skin hot beneath his touch.

Maka cradles his cheek in her hand and lifts so that he's look at her, and she presses her lips against his. She's slow and languid with her kisses, savoring every nose she draws from him, her tongue boldly swiping out across his seam asking for entrance. They haven't French kissed, but he opens his mouth ever so slightly to see what she does and groans when her tongue cascades over his and again when it curls along the roof of his tongue.

Fuck, she's a good kisser.

Passion ignites over his lower abdomen as he tastes her, breathes in the scent of her fruity perfume (candy apple today, he notes). It's intoxicating. Invading his senses and filling his soul with a sweet cotton candy goodness that's so Maka.

It isn't until he feels cold air against his balls he breaks away from the kiss to glare at her.

"Maka, what are you doing?"

"Do you not like it?" she asks.

Her hips hover above his own, the tip of his cock the only part of him inside her. His length aches and whines for the rest of her walls to go down on him. The coy smile she gives him is enough to make him groan and beg. He grips her hips to force her back down on him, but she's relentless.

"Please," he begs, his voice gruff and rough. So uncool.

She brushes a finger down his jaw and along his bottom lip. He leans out to bite it, happy to hear the deep intake of breath from her when does. Soul doesn't think she realizes how hot and sexy she is to him, but fuck him would he give anything to make this relationship about more than just sex because he would have loved for her to kiss him in front of that waitress today. If only to prove that he's off the market and can be with a girl like Maka.

A wonderful girl who's cute and kicks ass and knows how to be so damn sexy.

"Stop screwing around, Maka."

"Since you asked so nicely," she says.

Soul groans as her walls wrap around his dick again and lays a small kiss on the crook of her neck, feeling her shudder beneath his touch.

They end up coming at the same time, both moaning each other others name into the dead of night, and Maka ends up sleeping in his bed. He doesn't mind it. In fact, he enjoys curling up beside her, his arms wrapped around her waist, and smelling the faint scent of sweat mixed with coconut conditioner. It's his new favorite scent.

* * *

Soul walks into the kitchen the next morning to see Maka wearing one of his shirts and a pair of his old pajama pants that haven't fit him in years. They both sit loose on her body, swallowing her up, but she's absolutely adorable in them. Her hair hangs loose around her shoulders and cascades around her face as she reaches up into the cabinet for a bowl. His heart skips a beat at the sight of her, marveling at how well she looks in his clothes. So at home. So comfortable. A sight he can definitely get used to.

"Oh, you're up," Maka says when she sees him. "You want scrambled eggs for breakfast, right?"

"Where'd you find those clothes?"

"They were in the back of one of your drawers," she supplies without fail. "I've never seen you wear them so I figured you wouldn't mind." She opens the fridge and grabs four eggs from the container. "I'm doing laundry right so I can give them back to you when I'm done. If you want, of course."

It's so nonchalant and carefree he almost misses the way she spares him a second glance. The way her face silently begs him to let her keep them. Why she'd ever want to wear his clothes is beyond him, but he doesn't mind it one bit. In fact, he'd appreciate it very much if she were to wear them every day of the week and flaunt around the apartment in them. She can even wear his jacket to let people know she's with him and not some other sleazebag.

He keeps that to himself, though, as he says, "Nah. It's fine."

Soul crosses over to the fridge and grabs the carton of milk to take a drink of it and simmer his burning desire.

"Blue stripes look good on you."

Maka glances down at the bottoms and smiles. "Thanks. But you need to stop drinking straight from the carton. What if we have guests over and they want milk? I can't give them ours since your gross germs are in there."

He shrugs and puts the cap back on. "If it's so gross then why have you been kissing and swapping spit with me for the last two weeks?"

Her cheeks tint a rose pink and they puff out in embarrassment before she turns on her heels. "Scrambled? Right?"

* * *

Soul glares at the two guys standing behind them in line to get an ice cream. He's watched them for the last ten minutes snickering and nudging each other as they point to Maka, and it doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure out what they're saying. She's wearing one of her skirts today, the one that cinches around her waist and flutters around her rear; the one he's caught himself staring at a good few times in the past. Except the difference is when stares, it's more to admire the way Maka looks in a skirt with no ill intentions or desires.

These guys, however, have continuously given her the onceover Soul knows Maka despises, licking their lips. They're like predators ready to pounce on an innocent doe. But what they don't know is that Maka isn't the type of doe who lets people have their way with her; she's the type of doe who will fight back and give it everything she has. She's strong for someone who's so short and tiny. If he hadn't experienced her legs locked around his waist while she orgasms, he wouldn't know how strong they truly her. Maka could probably drop kick both of the guys in one swoop.

Still, the thought doesn't ease his annoyance.

"I think I'm going to go with strawberry today," Maka says.

He pulls his gaze away from the guys to look down at her. Her finger taps over her mouth as she surveys the menu, and he's tempted to pull it away and kiss her only to let the two guys know she's with _him_.

"Strawberry? There are thirty-one flavors of ice cream here, and you're really gonna go with _strawberry_?"

"What's wrong with that?"

"It's plain and boring."

"Maybe I like plain and boring," she retorts.

"Coulda surprised me considering you're the one who's been suggesting new se-Oof!" He almost doubles over as she elbows him in the gut. The fierce fire surging beneath her green eyes definitely shouldn't turn him on like they currently are doing especially when he's in pain. "The fuck?"

"Don't talk about that in public," she hisses. "Someone'll probably hear you."

He tosses a quick glance in the direction of the two guys to see them laughing, and he lowly growls.

"Maybe I want someone to hear."

"I'd rather they didn't hear, thank you." Maka tugs down on her skirt and shakes her braid over her shoulder. "I'm good with what we do at the apartment being kept between us."

"You say that now," he mutters, sparing one more glance at the two guys. He doesn't miss the hungry gleam in their eyes as they stare at Maka's ass, and Soul leans back slightly to ensure nothing is showing. A sigh of relief upon seeing her fully covered.

"What are you going to get?" she asks.

"Dunno. I thought maybe cookie dough."

Her brow quirks up and she smirks. "And you're calling me boring? You always get the same thing every time we come here."

"It's better than strawberry," he says. "We can buy a gallon of strawberry of ice cream for the same price we're paying here, you know."

"We can also buy a gallon of cookie dough ice cream for the same price, so what's your point?"

Soul doesn't respond save for an eye roll. She does have a point, of course. They could get any of the ice cream there at the grocery store for the same price they're paying here, but it's their tradition to get Baskin Robbins ice cream every third Saturday of the month. It's the only time they let themselves indulge on the good stuff as Maka had so eloquently put it when they first started the whole thing. Though, now he can argue the indulging part of their relationship is the sex, but he knows that's a big fat lie. What's so great about screwing his best friend when he can't kiss her to make other guys jealous?

After they get their ice cream, they find a booth near the window to eat their ice cream and chat. Their chatting consists of him teasing Maka when she has to ask the cashier for a bowl and a spoon because she's a slow eater, but even though she pouts and tells him he's a dick, the blush coating her cheeks tells a different story. He does apologize, of course. No sense in having her pretend to be angry at him with the two guys sitting two booths over, their gross stares continuously glancing at Maka's legs.

Why the hell did she have to wear a skirt again?

"Do you wanna taste some of it?" Maka asks, picking up her pink spoon that has more ice cream on it than he thinks it can handle. "Or is it too _plain_ for you?"

He's tempted to turn down her offer, give her some snide remark about the flavor, but he overhears the beefier guy tell his friend he'd gladly have a taste of what's between Maka's thighs so he relents.

"Sure."

Maka must not have been expecting that to be his answer because she blinks in surprise, but doesn't say anything. Soul leans over the table and takes the spoonful she offers him, licking some of it off the side of his mouth, and hums. It isn't so bad considering it's one of the lamest flavors a person can request at Baskin Robbins.

"It's good," he tells her. He licks some of the remaining ice cream in his cone before offering it to her. "You want the rest of mine?"

"Sure," she shrugs.

Soul hands it over to her and watches in his peripheral as the two guys scowl and glare at him. A spark of glee surges over his heart as Maka continues to rattle on about work and her co-workers. When he spares them a quick glance, he sees they've stopped staring at her and turned their attention to another girl a few booths down who's sitting with her friends. In a weird, twisted way he won.

It doesn't stop him from adding more emphasis Maka is with him metaphorically by placing his hand on the small of her back as they leave the ice cream shop.


	4. In Too Deep

He had offhandedly told her one night in a stupid, sleepy daze that he hated when she wore skirts with thigh highs because it gave him sinful thoughts for the rest of the day. Soul had said it in a tired voice, his mind already half-way dead from the world, but he had said it nonetheless. Whether he expected her to have been awake to hear or even meant to say it out loud was by all means a situation he could delve into more detail about later because the fact was she had heard it. And Maka Albarn wasn't someone who let simple things like that pass by her especially given their current situation. Sex with her best friend was a freshly baked cake and this new information was the sweetest bit of icing on top.

When she saw an open opportunity, she took it.

No if's, and's, or but's about it.

Maka moans as Soul kneads the skin above her thighs, the small exposed portion from where her thigh highs end and the skirt begins. She sloppily kisses the side of his mouth when his fingers graze along the curve of her ass and presses herself flush against his chest. Her entire body burns with desire and want. The top she has on is suddenly entirely too tight, too warm, and the bra underneath an unnecessary part of her attire. All she wants is for him to rip it apart and litter her creamy skin with bite marks and hickeys; leave some sign that he was here ravishing her body for the taking and pleasing her with every piece of him.

A hiss escapes from her as Soul tugs her down so that her soaked panties touch his erection. She sits up and rubs herself against him. Her eyes flutter at the sensation; a warm liquid pools in the pit of her stomach and travels across her lower abdomen and down to her pussy. His hands remain kneading her thighs while his thumbs slip in between the elastic of her underwear. Maka hums and bites her lip when she feels him near her slit and gives him a coy smile.

"You did this on purpose," he groans out.

"I have no idea what you mean."

He rolls his eyes. "I'm pretty damn sure you do. You're going out with Liz for lunch and decide to wear a skirt with thigh highs? You never wear that to go out with Liz."

"How do you know it's Liz I'm meeting? I could be meeting some guy."

"You wouldn't be doing this if it was a guy."

It isn't a lie.

"That still doesn't mean I did this on purpose."

"Maka, you got ready to go out an hour before you have to leave." He sighs as he rolls his hips, and she moans at the movement. "Then you came to make out with me. Either you're horny or just a fucking minx."

Leaning down, she raises her hips away from him, earning her a small whine of protest, but fixes it with a slow languid kiss. Soul breathes out heavily through his nose as he returns it, his mouth sucking on her bottom lip for a second longer than necessarily. Chills run down her spine as his hand threads itself into her hair to cup the back of her head while the other rests on her hip. They sigh at the same time. When they break away from the kiss, they hold each other's gaze, the fire that sears her body reflected in his own heavy lidded gaze.

Her heart hammers against her rib cage. The excitement and ecstasy she feels when they're cuddled on the couch or eating across each other at McDonald's cracking jokes fills her chest, and everything feels so _right_.

"What if I said it's a mixture of both?" she asks, her voice low.

"I fucking knew it," he grins before pulling her down for another kiss. "How much time you have left to kill before you gotta leave?"

Maka grabs her phone from his nightstand to check the time. "About forty-five minutes."

"Plenty of time," he says with a toothy smile.

A few minutes later, Maka finds herself flat on her back, shirt and bra both gone, and Soul's tongue lavishing her nipples.

One thing she adores about Soul's love making is his meticulous attention to pleasuring her.

Throughout this experience, she's learned he isn't one who does things the half-assed approach when it comes to sex. Oh, he may be lazy in his day to day activities, but that laziness doesn't translate to what he does in bed. He's a slow, sensual lover who doesn't rush things or go about things half-heartedly. Soul takes things in strides, tests the waters to know what makes her moan the loudest, and executes them tenfold each time. He pays attention to pleasuring her, making sure she's the one who gets the most gratification out of the sex, rather than focusing all on himself like most stereotypical men.

It's difficult for her to keep her eyes open long enough to watch him as he works; the way his tongue expertly glides over the skin of her breast before lapping around her pert nipple. She arches her back as a moan escapes from her, and Soul is quick to seize the opportunity by gently biting around the surface of her breast. His hand palms and kneads the other one, toying with her in the same fashion of his mouth and mirroring the motions. Every now and then, he switches between the two in an attempt to give them ample attention, but she's already a goner. Her core clenches every time she rubs her thighs together, her soaked panties getting wetter by the second, and heat and desire surround her lower abdomen.

Snaking a hand down her stomach, she makes her way to the hem of her panties. Her hand slips beneath the garment and finds the velvety slit of her pussy, but before she can sink her fingers inside her to relieve some tension, Soul grabs her wrist and pins her hand to the bed.

"How 'bout we leave me to do that?" he asks, voice rough and raw.

"I don't think I can wait, though." Maka threads her fingers through his hair, tugging on the soft tufts hair that makes him moan and his eyes to flutter. "I think that's enough foreplay, yeah?"

"Maybe one more minute."

Heat soaked sanguine eyes watch as he kisses the space above her collarbone sending a shudder down her spine. He trails more kisses down the dip of her stomach to her bellybutton to the hem of her skirt. She thinks for a second he's going to undress her, but that idea is shattered the moment he kisses the lining of her panties. Maka arches her back off the bed and spreads her legs to give him better access to her pussy and waits for him to remove her panties.

It doesn't come right away, though.

Instead, Soul flips her over onto her stomach in one quick motion and pulls her to the edge of the bed. She glances over her shoulder at him to see him pull her underwear down, careful so as not have them touch her thigh highs, and tosses them over his shoulder. He gives her a small smirk before his face disappears between her legs. A squeak sounds from her as he mouths her slit, tongue caressing and lapping at her opening; swirling around to touch every orifice of her walls. Her ass lifts up to give him better access as she languidly cries his name.

He kisses and sucks on her clit, biting the bulb softly as her hands reach out to grasp the other side of the bed. She feels herself grow closer and closer to the edge with each slow swipe of his tongue against her. Relief coils in the pit of her stomach, growing tighter and tighter as the seconds pass by, and right when she feels her orgasm start to hit, Soul's mouth is gone.

"Soul," she warns with a small growl and glaring at him.

"You're too eager." He opens the drawer to his nightstand to take out a condom and shimmies his pants down freeing his erect cock. As he puts the condom over it, he says, "I'm gonna be here all day while you're out. Let me at least relieve some tension as well."

"Isn't that why you have your hand? So you can go solo for a bit? It's not like you're the one who's going out in public and won't be able touch himself."

"Sometimes it's better to have the real thing, though."

Hiking up her skirt so that her butt is exposed, he positions himself between her thighs and rubs the tip of his head along her slit. She sighs at the feel of it, her eyes closing in ecstasy.

"You okay with this position?" he asks.

"Stop teasing and fuck me."

Soul lightly chuckles. "You're so needy."

Maka opens her mouth to retort, but her words are drowned out by a long, loud moan as Soul's cock slowly fills her. He gives her a moment to get used to his girth and adjust herself as needed before progressing with her wish. It starts out steady, gentle thrusts to get her used to it, before his rhythm picks up, hands crushing into the curve of her back so that she's sure there'll be bruises where his fingers are in the morning, but she doesn't at all mind it. The bundle of ecstasy in her core starts to gradually unravel; not enough to pull her to an orgasm, but enough for her to feel some relief.

Her hand reaches out behind her in search for his and interlocks their fingers once she does and pulls him forward so that his back his flush against her. He doesn't need to be told as he spreads kisses along shoulderblades and down her spine; his hands wrap around her sides and fondle her tits, one on each as they squeeze and tug at her nipples. Heat flushes over her skin and her core begs for more, more, more. It begs for his touch, his mouth, his pleasure. Anything.

"Touch me," she says, almost whines, and Soul understands.

One hand slides between her body and the mattress to where her clit is, and with a single finger, he starts stroking the nub, gentle, and it's all she needs. The relief in her lower abdomen uncoils and ribbons across her skin as her orgasm shakes her entire body. She moans out Soul's name like a prayer, the syllables separating and pulling apart, bouncing off the walls of his room as her hands grip the sheets. Her thighs tighten around his and her ankles lock around his waist to keep him there, refusing to let him leave her so soon. Soul kisses the space between her shoulders, and she feels her own name murmured against her skin when he comes as well.

They lay there for a few minutes, both completely spent and tired.

Soul pushes away a few stray pieces of her hair before kissing the crook of her neck, a coolness against her warm skin, before falling on the bed beside her. She turns to look at him. His hair is plastered to his forehead sheen with sweat, but the smile gracing his mouth reflects her own joy from the situation. Maka flips onto her side and cuddles up beside him, hooking her leg around his and not caring if she gets them dirty. That's why washing machines were invented and she has multiple pairs of thigh highs to change into. He wraps his arm around her shoulders to pull her closer and kisses the top of her head.

It's comfortable and perfect in every sense of the word except for one.

The fact that once she dresses and leaves he still remains her friend after this looms over her head, but she brushes it away. She can't worry about technicalities right now, doesn't want to worry about them is more like. What she wants is to bask in the glory of how satisfying sex is with Soul, how happy it makes her, and how much being with him even in this sense is _good_. It _has_ to be good because the moment she lets herself dwell on anything except that, she shatters everything they have.

"I should wear skirts with thigh highs more often," she says, kissing his lower jaw with a grin.

"I fucking knew you planned it."

* * *

Maka comes bouncing into his room wearing a new outfit she hadn't been wearing earlier, though, it's the same style of choice. Her waist high skirt billows around her as she scurries around his room in search of her shoes, purse, and phone (when her belongings migrated from her room to his, he isn't entirely sure; it probably occurred around the same time she decided to sleep in his bed every night). She mutters to herself as she sifts through his clothes, tossing garments to the side and lecturing him to clean up after himself. He snorts and waves her off by saying why should he when she gladly does it for him.

The comment earns him a face full of dirty boxers which makes him sputter and curse while she giggles.

"It won't hurt you to pick up some things, though," Maka says as she stands by his nightstand scrolling through her phone. "Your room could use it."

"I'll have to think about it."

He definitely plans on picking up his dirty clothes because God he's gross. How the fuck did he let his room get this _dirty_?

"If you don't, I'll probably have to think about whether or not we should have sex next time."

Right. The sex. His room became dirty when she gave him an offer he couldn't refuse.

"You drive a hard bargain, Albarn."

"If it means you'll do some cleaning, I'll take it."

Truthfully, she could refuse to cuddle with him and he'd still probably make the effort to clean his room. He thrives on their close contact outside of the sex. A fact he refuses to tell her.

"Yeah, yeah. Go have fun with Liz before I pull you back into this bed." Soul slips his fingers passed the elastic of her thigh highs and gives them a gentle tug. "You know I can never resist when you wear these."

She swats at his hand and says, "Stop it before you tear them. You already ruined my other ones," as she adjusts them.

"Pretty sure you were the one who came into _my_ bed, climbed on top of _me_ , and started making out with _me_. So really it's _your_ fault they got ruined."

"You're the one who put his hands on my thighs, though."

"You asked me to fuck you."

Her face tints a lovely shade of pink that makes him laugh.

"Shut up," she says, kicking the side of his. "We were both horny, okay? Let's leave it at that since we're both equally at fault here." Maka huffs and straightens out her bangs. "I'll be back in a few hours. Good luck with your songwriting. And clean your room, Soul or there won't be any sex the next time."

"Argh, yes, mother!"

Soul listens to her footsteps as she walks down the hall, staring up at the ceiling and going through the contents of their fridge to decide if he should order take out or not. There are things for him to make a sandwich with, some leftovers from Olive Garden, and a few microwave meals Maka bought for work. If he takes one of the latter, he can always repay her by buying her more. After she talks his ear off about it and complains she has no food for the rest of the week (a lie, of course). Or he can order Domino's and have the greasiest, most delicious pizza of his life without his roommate telling him how fattening it is. He always did like leftover pizza as well.

He's daydreaming about the toppings he'll put on top of the pizza when Maka comes running back into his bedroom. She throws him off guard as she kisses him square on the lips, chaste and sweet, the faint taste of mint chapstick on his mouth. His heart gives a resounding thump and skips a beat. His chest warms and he feels lighter than air. The emotions he's been suppressing for the last few months rise to the surface, slamming against him like a wave.

The desire to thread his hands in her hair tingles on the tips of fingers, to kiss her back hard and strong with every emotion in his body, but before he can do so, she breaks away and the spell is broken.

"That should hold you off for the day," she says, not meeting his gaze. Her hands rub over his bare chest as a small smile graces her face. "I'll see you tonight."

"Uh, yeah," is all he can manage to say.

She doesn't move, though. She remains on to of him, and Soul has the fleeting need to kiss her one more time, but she pushes off him and leaves.

His lips tingle from the feel of hers on his which is weird considering the amount of times they've kissed before. They kiss during sex, make out when they're wrapped in each other's arms, and just about any chance they get really. It was a normal part of their sexual relationship - _the friends with benefits relationship_ , he reminds himself. Yet, this kiss was different. It was spontaneous and light and sincere and made him feel even more in love with her; things that relate to a _real_ relationship.

But if that is true then…

Shaking his head, Soul brushes the thought away.

Maka doesn't love him. Not like that, at least. And it's best if he doesn't dwell on it for long and get his hopes up because when it dwindles down to it, this entire situation is about sex.

Nothing else.

* * *

Maka spends the entirety of the drive to the restaurant replaying the kiss she gave Soul over and over.

In the moment, she hadn't been thinking. She had done what she believed was the right thing to do after their little tryst and light banter and conversation, but now, sitting in her car, she's having second thoughts because the truth of the matter is that they aren't together. The kiss was uncalled for; it was something couples did before one left the house as a reminder for the other they loved them. Maka and Soul aren't together, no matter how much her heart bigged her to be with him. They're friends - _best_ friends - who are helping each other out sexually. Nothing more, nothing less.

This entire thing between them is about sex. And nothing else.

 _Just_ sex.

"What's got your panties in a twist?" Liz asks after their waitress walks away with their drink orders. When Maka doesn't answer save for a blink and a confused look, Liz elaborates. "You haven't said a thing since we sat down. Usually you comment on my attire which you haven't done at all, and I'm wearing a low cut top with my boobs practically out. So, tell me, what's wrong?"

She opens her mouth to tell her friend nothing's wrong and chastise her about her top not being suitable for a family friendly restaurant, but decides better of it. Honestly, Maka isn't in the mood to talk about the proper cut for a shirt or about children learning how to respect a woman who's comfortable in her own skin. What she most wants to talk about is the situation with Soul except Liz doesn't know about Maka screwing around with her best friend. What she wants to talk about are ways to tell Soul she loves him without scaring him away. What she wants to talk about _is_ Soul.

Sighing, Maka glances at Liz beneath her bangs. Maybe she doesn't have to tell her friend the whole truth.

"Remember how you told me I should get laid?" Maka says, her voice above whisper.

Liz's eyes widen and her grin is predatory as she says, "Please don't tell me you and Soul are finally fucking each other!"

A deep blush burns over Maka's cheeks and her heart stops. "What?! No! No. Not him. I… I found someone else."

Her friend's face goes from disappointed scowl to gleeful smile in a split second. "Well, it's a start I guess. It should be Soul, but I'm sure that'll happen down the road." Liz places her hands over Maka's. "I'm just glad my best friend finally got some cock in her!"

"Liz! Language," Maka says, glancing at the other patrons in hopes no one is listening.

Lucky for her, the restaurant isn't as packed as it normally is.

"This is huge!" Liz continues, ignoring Maka. "I never thought I'd see the day Maka Albarn finally loses her virginity! So, who is this mystery boyfriend of yours?"

"He isn't my boyfriend, exactly. We're more like…" Maka chews on her bottom lip for a second. "It's more like we're… Friends with benefits?"

"Oh my god! Maka Albarn!" Liz says, her face in a state of shock. "You actually listened to my advice and found someone to fuck on the side? Well, this is definitely news."

"You don't have to say it so vulgar." Maka sips her drink, chewing on the straw when she finishes and tapping her foot on the floor. "And it's not like this is some huge discovery or anything-"

"Yes, it is. Given your history with boys, I think you finding someone to screw around with is pretty huge, and a monumental life-changing thing. So who is he?"

"That isn't important," Maka waves off. "I'd rather not talk about the sexual aspect of our relationship. I wanted to ask you something else."

"Shoot," Liz says, pressing painted red lips to her drink. "What do you wanna ask?"

Maka fiddles with her hands beneath the table and tugs at her skirt as she tries to find the right words to phrase things. She can't come all out about _who_ she's sleeping with because Liz will hound her phone for days on end telling Maka the obvious which she doesn't want. Her and Soul are friends despite Maka's feelings for the boy, and no amount of confessing will ever prove that. She also can't downright ask Liz how to deal with her feelings for a boy she's sleeping with because that too will make things obvious. Liz may be blonde, but she's far from being stupid. The girl graduated college cum laude and had always been too smart for her own good.

Finally, Maka settles on a question that's been irritating her since the beginning.

"How do you have sex without feelings getting in the way?" Maka asks. It's simple enough, and maybe her friend's advice can help her wrangle her emotions for Soul.

Liz's pale blue eyes scan over her, study her, but Maka can't read what her friend is thinking. She has the same stoic look Soul has when he's trying to act aloof and uncaring. The only difference is Liz has a better grasp on hers than he does. She's been practicing the resting bitchface since she was in diapers and, given her background from living on the streets most of her life, she knew how to keep her poker face in tact. It's an incredible talent, one Maka wishes she herself had since she wears her emotions on her sleeve most days.

A minute later, her friend purses her lips and shrugs.

"Not sure if it'll work out for you, but I never find any problem not falling in love with the guy - or gal - I'm screwing around with. I guess for you, all I can say is be honest with the guy you're sleeping with. If you love him, tell him. Especially if it starts getting in between you two. You don't want something like this to blow up in your face."

The way Liz says it alerts Maka's inner tuition. Cold creeps down her spine at the thought of her friend possibly knowing who she's sleeping with and understanding the situation without saying so in too many words. But her gaze remains dull and lifeless making it hard for Maka to determine if her feeling is wrong or right. Before she can dwell further on it, though, Liz waves a hand.

"I'm sure whatever you decide, things will turn out fine between you and this mystery guy." Liz's mouth tucks up into a feline-like smile as she says, "I'm just glad you're no longer a virgin."

"Thanks. I guess," Maka says with a small pout.

It isn't entirely helpful to her situation, but she'll take it.

No matter what happens between her and Soul - no matter how much she loves him - things will turn out alright in the end. She's Maka Albarn. Things have to turn out fine. They just have to.

"Anyways, I didn't invite you out to talk about boys. They're taking control of everything, and they don't need to be the centerpoint of our conversation." Liz says, resting back in her chair. "Have you watched the newest season of Game of Thrones yet?"

* * *

Soul's in the middle of writing out a song when he's startled by his phone buzzing, almost falling out his chair. He glares at the bright screen to see who's disturbing him to read his brother's pristine name written in white font flashing across the front. _Wesley Evans_. A groan escapes from him of its own accord as he answers it.

"What do you want?" he growls in greeting.

"Ah, there's my glorious ray of sunshine brother," Wes says. "Who pissed in your Cheerios this morning?"

"No one. I'm in the middle of writing a song, and your call disturbed me."

"Glad to see you picked something up from our father other than his sharp wit."

"If you called to talk about dad, I don't wanna hear it." Soul quickly adds, "Or mom."

"Don't worry. I didn't call to talk about either of them. I was calling to see how my baby brother's doing since I haven't heard from him in a while. How are things going for you?"

"Same as the last time we spoke. Still working as a high school teacher, haven't sold a piece to anyone, and on the weekends I work over at the jazz club."

His brother voices his praise, asks if there's anything else new in Soul's life, and an image of Maka flashes in his mind. If there's anyone Soul can ask for advice, it would be Wes. Lord knows his brother has more experience than him when it dealt with women… or any type of romance for that matter. Though, truth be told, he isn't too fond of asking _Wes_ of all people for this type of advice since he's experience with giving sound advice in the past is minimal. _Very_ minimal.

"I need some… girl advice, actually," Soul mumbles into the receiver.

"I think I can help you there." Wes' smug smirk practically vibrates over the receiver. "Mom and Dad didn't name me Wesley Theodore Evans for nothing because the ladies, they do adore me."

"How long did it take you to come up with that one?"

"Since the day I was born, little brother."

"Whatever," Soul groans. "What I need to know is what does it mean when a girl kisses you after sex?"

Silence feels the other end, and Soul has to check to see if he didn't accidentally hang up on Wes before his brother responds.

"Usually it means she really likes you and enjoys your company… Do you have a girlfriend you aren't telling me about, little brother?"

Soul blanches and stumbles over his words as he says, "No-not exactly. I mean, kinda, but also not really. We aren't together or anything in the romantic sense. It's more like we-we-we've been screwing around together. It's not funny, Wesley."

It takes Wes a moment to respond between his laughter on the other line, and Soul starts to regret ever confiding in his brother about his current situation. Why he thought Wes would be helpful about this, he doesn't know. He does make a mental note to remember this moment and never confide in his brother ever again.

"Are you done yet?" Soul growls when Wes' laughter dies down.

Wes sighs. "Let me guess, you're screwing around with Maka, aren't you?"

His brother's ability to hit the nail on the head is impeccable, though, annoying.

"How'd you know?"

"Little brother, I hate to tell you this, but I know you. You've been in love with that girl since you two graduated from college, maybe even longer, and if you are indeed screwing around with her, you need to stop."

The tone Wes says it in scares Soul the most. It's his serious tone he reserves for situations when matters are significant and important and alerts Soul to listen to him.

"You aren't like me," Wes continues. "You can't just fuck a girl without any emotions getting bunched in the mix of it, and if you're screwing Maka, a girl you're in love with, you're gonna end up hurt in the end."

"And how do you expect me to do that? By telling her I love her? What if she doesn't love me back?"

"Then you stop being her friend," Wes tells him matter-of-factly.

Soul's heart drops to his stomach, and he knows right away he'd rather do anything except that. Screwing around with Maka with no real relationship in sight is better than not being friends with her.

"But," Wes continues, "I highly doubt that'll happen since she's in love with you too."

"I doubt that," Soul mumbles more to himself.

"Won't know until you try."

He doesn't say anything while he mulls over his brother's words. A part of him knows Wes is right, but another part of him is scared of admitting his feelings for Maka. She had already said they were only doing this as friends because neither of them felt anything more for the other, and that was proof enough for, right?

"Thanks for the advice, but I gotta let you go. I really need to-"

"By the way," Wes cuts in, "can I bring my cat to you next weekend? I'm going out of town for a concert, and I can't bring her with me."

"That's the real reason you called, isn't it?"

"You know me so well, little brother."

* * *

Maka takes a sip from the Jack Daniel's wine cooler Soul had given her as she reads the subtitles displayed on the screen before them. Soul had preordered the newest season of Game of Thrones since they can't afford the cable bundle with HBO, and she's thankful he did. She doesn't get the luxury of subtitles when she tries to watch the show bootleg on her laptop which doesn't last long since Game of Thrones is one of the biggest shows on TV to date and any illegal copy of the show gets removed from the internet in a snap. So Soul preordering a show he doesn't much care for is a blessing.

She presses herself closer to Soul who slides his arm around her waist to pull her in closer. His thumb rests on the skin of her thigh, inches away from the hem of her sleep shorts, and draws lazy circles there. It doesn't take Maka long to feel heat settle in her lower abdomen and naughty thoughts to float to the forefront of her mind. Taking another swig of her drink, she tries to focus on the Dothraki speaking to Daenerys rather than Soul's hand.

Her attempts are futile, though.

"God these guys are dicks," Soul says as the Dothraki leader tells Daenerys he's going to let his men gangbang her and then give her to the horses for them to fuck her as well. "They talk to her like she's nothing. Don't they know she has dragons?"

"I think they failed to listen to that part," Maka smiles. "But you're concern for her is cute."

Soul glances at her before taking a drink of his own wine cooler, a faint blush dusting his cheeks. "It bothers me when guys talk to girls like that is all. It doesn't mean anything."

"You're starting to like this show, aren't you?"

"I need to watch the earlier seasons, but it's cool. I guess," he says nonchalantly, but Maka's grin widens being someone who can read Soul like a book.

"Maybe we can watch other other seasons after we finish this one, and then maybe you can read the books-"

"I'm not reading any dumb books," he cuts in with a glare. "I'll leave the reading to you. Aren't these books thick as fuck, anyways?"

"Mhm," Maka hums. "Thicker than the Harry Potter series, _and_ George R.R. Martin takes forever to release a book. He'll probably die before the series ends."

"All the more reason not to read the books." He takes another drink and nods to the TV. "Shouldn't that burn her?"

"Fire cannot kill a dragon," Maka says, repeating one of the most well known lines in the entire series. "Have you not been paying attention?"

"What does that mean?"

"Right. You didn't watch the first season," she says more to herself. "Daenerys is a descendant from the House Targaryen who used to have dragons before they were all killed and believed to be extinct. But then it turned out Daenerys is capable of giving dragons new life after she's given three dragon eggs at her wedding. That's why they call her the mother of dragons, and with being the mother of dragons, she can't be harmed by fire."

His hand moves on her thigh, and her breath hitches which Soul thankfully doesn't hear. If he does, he doesn't react.

"I think I should probably watch the earlier seasons. This girl is pretty badass," he says, nodding at the TV as Daenerys sets the room full of Dothraki men on fire and walks out of the blaze unscathed. "I like her."

"And she has dragons," Maka points out. "That makes her even more badass."

Soul snorts. "So girls are into dragons?"

"What?" she asks, turning to face him. "You thought only boys can like dragons?"

"No. Just didn't depict you as the kinda girl who liked dragons."

"I'm full of surprises," she says with a smile.

He turns to face her, a small grin on his face and retort dancing on the tip of his tongue, but it falls when he practically bumps his nose against hers. When they had grown so close to each other in the span of an hour, she isn't sure, but her heart stumbles in her chest at the realization. She hates how her eyes dart down to his mouth and how her tongue flicks out to wet her own. Maybe it's the slight buzz of alcohol in her system or Soul's warm hand on her bare thigh that makes the desire burn brighter within her.

Whatever it is, his low, gruff voice only makes things worse.

"That you are," he says.

The end credits of the episode fill the space of their living room, but neither of them move to switch to the next one. They remain staring at each other, the faint smell of alcohol mingling in the air between them, and their breathing warm and hot. Gently placing her hand over his jaw, Maka rubs her thumb over it to find he hasn't shaved in a day or two; definitely since the last time they had sex. But something about it sets her mind to grow muddy and dark as she pulls him down towards her.

Maka feels him shudder as she strokes her thumb along his chin once more and his gaze darkens. His tongue flicks out to wet his own lips, ghosting against hers in the process, and she relaxes.

"How many have you had?" Maka asks, hoping he understands she means the alcohol.

"Two. You?"

"Same."

His hand on her thigh slides down so that it hooks the underside of her knee and moves her so that she's sitting in his lap. The warmth in her lower abdomen melts into a cool liquid and her heartbeat quickens. She threads the hand not on his jaw into his hair and tugs him closer to her until he's less than an inch away from her and she feels his body heat wrap around her like a blanket. Anticipation builds inside her when he swallows and his mouth brushes against hers.

"So I take it it's okay to kiss you?" he asks.

Her heart stutters at the question, and she closes the distance between them in answer.

Soul languidly kisses her, sucking in a deep breath as he does. His hands tighten their hold on her as she buries her other hand in his hair, tasting him as her tongue slips into his mouth. He moans and lifts his hips slightly off the couch at the feel of her, and it takes everything inside her not to rip their clothes off immediately. Heat boils against her skin as his hands roam her body, sliding under clothes and touching her bare breasts and teasing her nipples. She gasps and arches her back into his touch.

Those piano hands of his knead her breasts and twirl her nipples in their grasp while his mouth kisses and sucks on her neck. A part of her hates how well he knows her, how he doesn't need to hesitate or seek permission if something feels good to her. He just _knows_. But another, much larger part of her loves it, drowns herself in it, and finds it utterly intoxicating. She loves the feel of his calloused fingers on her smooth skin and his body heat scorching her with every touch.

Somehow, she ends up with her shirt pulled up and his mouth covering her breast as his tongue flicks and licks her nipples. She moans and arches her back, gasping when his teeth leave bites on the underside of her breasts while his hand slides along the slit of her pussy and teases her. His cheeky grin burns her when he feels how wet she is, and she lightly slaps him and curses his name for the comment he gives her ( _God, you're wetter than normal_ ).

Not long afterward, he leaves to get a condom, and Maka idolizes her time wisely by discarding her panties and shorts.

* * *

When Soul comes back, he's surprised to see a half naked Maka on the couch, but he doesn't argue with it. His cock only twitches where it rests in his pants hot with desire and need while his heart pounds against his chest. Maka does quick work with his pants and boxers when he gets closer and practically snatches the condom from him as he unwraps it.

"Eager, aren't we?" he teases.

"Shut up," she mutters.

He doesn't get a chance to respond as her hand grips his cock and she slides the condom over him. The only sound he emits is a deep, low moan, his eyes fluttering at the sensation. Secretly, he hates how he aches and cries for her touch when they aren't fucking or fooling around or how he always finds he has his dirtiest thoughts when she wears shorts. Anything that shows off her legs, to be perfectly honest. Those sinful, long legs he loves to have wrapped around his waist.

Maka tugs him down onto the couch, her legs on either side of him and a devilish grin on her face. She's the last person in the world he would have expected to be so sex hungry, but he doesn't complain.

Soul kisses her forehead, the side of her cheek, and saves her lips for last. She moans as he slowly slides his cock inside her and waits for her to adjust to his size before thrusting out and back in. Her hands press flat against his chest like she's bracing herself, her moans soft as they sound from her throat, and he kisses and nibbles the pinkened flesh there, amazed at the girlish noises he draws from her. He loves the sounds he draws from her, ones that rival the songs he writes and creates on his piano because he's tried so long to etch her into a song.

There are about a dozen or so pieces he's written in his notebook that have been for her or about her. They all hold a piece of her and the emotions he feels for. Songs that range from love to sadness to happiness to simply him trying to capture her essence into something to make his love for her real and tangible. But nothing he'll ever write or hear will compare to Maka. She's a symphony in her own right; a symphony he's fine with keeping all for himself.

Nails dig into his back, alerting him to her orgasm, and he grips her hips as he buries his face in the crook of her neck. His thrusts quicken as she moans out his name (a raw, throaty cry he wishes to play over and over again like an old favorite song). It's another second or two, after her walls tighten around him, that he finds in his own release. Her name gets lodged in him as his orgasm hits, but it doesn't prevent something else from escaping him. Something he has no control of.

"Fuck," he breathes out, kissing her, "I love you."

His body steals on top of her, eyes wide as he waits for her to respond, but nothing.

Maka stays quiet beneath him save for her heavy breathing. He feels her heart thumping against his chest as he relaxes on top of her, and he assumes - hopes - she didn't hear him. Even when he slides out of her and rises, she doesn't say a word. All she does is smile and quickly kiss his cheek before escaping to the bathroom first, telling him to start the episode over again since they missed half of it. Soul sighs and runs a hand through his hair.

"Thank god she didn't hear," Soul says to himself.

* * *

In the bathroom, Maka grips the sides of the sink and stares at her flushed reflection. Soul's confession runs over and over in her head as fear rises like bile in her throat; hot and thick. She tries to flip his words every which way, excusing his actions for superficial reasons she knows are true, but her heart refuses to listen. It's happy and excited over Soul's words, the small ' _I love you_ ' he whispered against her skin, but her mind tells her to run away and end everything.

Nothing good ever comes with sex mixed with love.

Especially when the words are said by someone who isn't more than anything but a friend.

"What do I do?" she asks her reflection, though, it's useless.


	5. Shape of You

A few days have passed since Soul told her he loved her, and she hasn't managed to even look him in the eyes since then. To make matters worse, Soul isn't an idiot. She knows he knows something is up with her. They've lived together for three years, knew each other back in college, so how can he not know something's wrong? He knows her better than anyone in her life; he knows when something bugs her or someone's said something that makes her uncomfortable. He puts a gentle hand on her knee when she's anxious and nervous; gives her a soft, boyish smile that melts her heart and sends a wave of ease to wash over her body.

But he doesn't give her any of that now.

Instead, he watches her fiddle with the hem of her shirts as she curls on the opposite side of the couch. His burgundy eyes bore into her before drifting back to the TV, and she wishes he would say something that let's her know he's aware of what had happened. Anything to soothe her aching heart and the intrusive thoughts in her head, but he doesn't and she isn't sure what bothers her more. The fact he even said he loves her in the first place or his insist need to avoid bringing it up.

"Are you okay?" he finally asks when the next episode of the show they're watching plays. "You've been acting weird."

"I'm fine," she tells him.

"You sure?"

"Yes. Of course. Why else wouldn't I be?"

It's a test to see if he'll take the bait and bring up the confession. She's disappointed when he doesn't.

"Dunno," he shrugs. "Something just feels off. You've been avoiding me since the last time we had sex, and I wanted to know why. Did I do something wrong?"

Her heart twists at the defeated way he says it, the hurt and concern blending into his gaze, and she has to look away before she brings up the topic. If he doesn't remember what he said or is too shy to ask her about it, she won't either. No need to put a damper in their relationship over something that might've been so trivial and insignificant between them. Guys tell girls they love them all the time after sex, right? Why should Soul be so different?

Even the thought is like stabbing a knife in her chest.

"You didn't do anything wrong," she tells him. "I just… haven't been in the mood for sex lately, is all, and I don't want you to think that's weird or anything."

"Why would I think it's weird? That's normal to not want sex."

She doesn't meet his gaze as she runs a hand through her hair and sighs. "Guys are sex obsessed, and I don't want you to be turned off when I am ready to sleep with you again."

"Maka, I'm not-"

"I'm going to my room," she cuts him off. She doesn't think she can handle hearing him say he isn't like other guys or the sex between them doesn't matter when it does indeed matter. Maybe asking him to be friends with benefits was a mistake. "I'll talk to you tomorrow."

Maka walks around the ottoman without waiting for his response. She needs to get away from him and have some freedom to think about what to next because her mind is a jumbled mess. Her heart isn't even on a straight line; it keeps jumping from loving Soul to being hurt he doesn't love her back. All of her emotions are imbalanced, and it's annoying.

"Night," Soul calls to her as she heads down the hallway.

It saying it back leaves her with guilt, but she can't find the words inside her to do so either.

* * *

When he hears her door close, Soul sighs on the couch and cards his hands through his hair. He's an idiot for not asking the obvious question sitting in the air between them. It's not like he doesn't know what's bothering Maka; he had been inebriated when they had sex the other night, but his senses weren't so gone he didn't know what he was doing or saying. Soul had perfect control over his actions which extended to what he said as well, and it's common courtesy to talk after saying 'I love you' to someone.

Especially when that person is someone he really does love.

But Maka doesn't love him. If she did, she would have brought up the confession and talked with him about it, right?

It isn't like Maka's a naive woman who doesn't understand the difference between love and lust. She's smart and has a good head on her shoulders. If anyone would ask him about the confession, it would be her; it should be her. Yet she hasn't commented on it yet. All she's done is push him away and distance herself from him which points to only one reason.

She doesn't love him.

She's doing him a favor by saving face and avoiding the obvious between them which should make him grateful, but he isn't. He's selfish and self-centered because he wants to talk to her about it and tell her how much he meant it when he said the words to her. Then again, if he does do so, he'll only push her farther away.

"This whole thing is complicated," he mutters to himself as he turns off the TV.

He hasn't been paying attention to the show long enough to bother watching the next episode. It also feels weird to be watching something Maka had been dying to watch and pushed him into viewing the first three episodes. Ironic when he thinks about it. Things are strange in the show and his real life.

"More like strange and complicated," he says in his way to his bedroom.

Soul stops outside of Maka's room and stares at her door. The distance between them has never felt thicker than it currently does, and it feeds into his fear of possibly losing her over a dumb mistake. But he knows if he pushes Maka and forces her to be with him again, it'll only lead to trouble and losing her for good. He can cuddle himself tonight or pretend Maka's in his bed with him. At least it's something.

* * *

Throughout the confusion and struggle that is Soul's accidental confession, Maka still finds herself having lunch with Spirit.

Glancing around the restaurant, she makes a mental note to never let him choose where they eat again. It had been one of the few times she allowed him to pick their destination, and she realized how horrid a mistake that was. Spirit Albarn, known womanizer and sexist pig, had chosen the one place where he can get an eyeful of girls body parts in front of his daughter without it being weird, but it still is. Maka isn't completely blind to her papa's sly glances at the waitress' breasts or the flirtatious comments he gives her.

It's disgusting to see her father, the man who helped raise her, flirt with a girl about the same age as herself.

"Can we go one lunch date without you flirting with every woman in a ten mile radius," Maka hisses once the waitress steps away. "Did it ever occur to you how uncomfortable that makes me?"

"I wasn't flirting," Spirit defends, and Maka rolls her eyes. "I was being nice. That's what you're supposed to do when you come here. The waitress' expect it. They're used to it."

"I'm not talking about the waitress, Papa. I'm talking about me. You're daughter. And how it makes me uncomfortable."

"Pumpkin, I'm not flirting." Maka responds with a groan and another eye roll, leaning back in her chair and folding her arms in front of her. "So, how are things going for you? You still live with that boy?"

Maka's heart tugs at the mention of Soul's name, and her scowl deepens. She isn't much in the mood to talk to Spirit about her mundane life or anything dealing with her roommate. Especially with Spirit. He's the last person in the world she wants to speak to about any matters dealing with the heart and emotions and sex. Spirit's a notorious womanizer who's slept with his good share of different women in the past, whispering he loves them night after night. It's his fault she's angry with Soul and what he had said to her, she realizes; it's the same thing she expects from a man like Spirit.

But Soul isn't like Papa, she thinks. He's different.

Hushing her thoughts, she says, "Yes, I still live with Soul, and before you ask, I'm not moving back with you. I'd rather not know how many women you've brought over since I moved out three years ago. Thanks."

He flinches at her harsh tongue, and she smirks.

"I haven't been bringing anyone home, Sweetie. I keep telling you that, but you don't believe me."

"And why do you think I don't believe you?" she accuses. "When you were married to Mama you were always out with some strange woman and coming home to grovel at Mama's feet when she caught you cheating."

"That's in the past, though."

"Bullshit," she says. "You haven't changed that much since the divorce. I'm not an idiot."

Spirit falls silent, thumbing the side of his cup as he no doubt tries to find a way to steer the conversation away from his infidelity filled past.

She knew coming out to lunch with her papa was a bad idea, but it had become a tradition for them to meet once a month to catch up. There had been a handful times over the last three years where their father/daughter dates had ended up well and Maka went home happier to have spent time with the man. But with the current situation at the apartment, her own sexual experiences with Soul, she isn't much in the mood to talk to him. To be reminded of the horrible things a man can do and the fear of Soul being exactly like her papa.

They did say the apple never fell far from the tree, and if Maka was doomed to follow in the footsteps of her mama, it only made sense for Soul and Spirit it to be two sides of the same coin.

Even as she thinks it, though, she knows it isn't true.

Soul is nothing like Spirit. He doesn't flirt with other girls, doesn't date for that matter even when she pushes him to, doesn't spend his nights out at the strip club or in a different woman's bed each night. He spends a majority of his days not at the high school he teaches at composing new pieces or performing at the jazz club he works at, and his evenings are spent on the couch next to her watching a new show on Netflix and eating junk food and being with her. All of that has to count for something, right?

"I'm thinking of moving to another apartment," Spirit says, interrupting her thoughts. "The current one feels too small. I'm also thinking of getting a dog."

"You and a dog have a lot in common." His brows rise in question. "Because you both will hump just about anything."

"Maka, I'm not the same man I once was. I'm trying to change, and-"

"Save your excuses and apologies for someone who hasn't heard them most of her life," Maka waves off. "I'm tired of hearing the same old things from you. They're pointless by this time."

He opens his mouth to say something, but nods instead before taking a sip of his drink. The sunlight streaming in from the window next to them illuminates the wrinkles on his face, the black lines beneath his eyes, and she notices for the first time how old he is. For someone in his early forties, he doesn't look it. It's like he's aged since the last time she saw him, and the thought strums something in her. She brushes it off like a speck of dust, though. Her papa's age isn't something she should be worried about.

They end up not talking to each other and falling into their own separate worlds.

Maka stares out the window and watches people as they walk by, counting how many couples she sees, and thinks of Soul. Maybe she's being a little overdramatic about the love confession the other night. If he hasn't brought it up yet, then it probably doesn't mean anything. He probably doesn't even remember saying it to her since they had been drinking. Not enough to get drunk and black out, but enough to dull their senses and make them say things they didn't mean. A perfectly natural occurrence.

Plus, there's always the fact Soul isn't like her papa in any shape or form.

His intentions of telling her he loves her probably had more to do with love in the sense of friendship. Not romance.

Their food arrives, and Spirit goes back to making small talk once more. Maka doesn't respond much to him save for the occasional one worded answer or nods or grunts.

* * *

It takes about five times for Soul to finally work up the courage to call Wes for advice.

Normally, he isn't the type to call Wes out of the blue. It's usually his brother who has to initiate the conversation which is more than likely because something's happened in their family. Either his mother has tried getting a hold of Soul and Wes is the last resort or Gran wants Soul to come see her garden (those are the only times he bothers driving out to see his family). But more than likely Wes calls to annoy Soul and catch up and tell him about his sexual life. Needless to say, their phone conversations are few and only occur once in a blue moon. All the reason why Soul shouldn't be calling his brother.

On the third ring, Wes answers, and Soul remembers the last time he seeked his brother for advice.

Even more reason to hang up.

"Is it my birthday?" Wes asks, his smug grin seeping through the phone. "Or did I win the lottery 'cause my little brother never calls."

"Hi to you too, Wes," Soul says.

"So why are you calling me? Do you need money or something?"

"No," Soul all but snaps. "I told you I have a decent job that pays me well, and Maka has her own job so the apartment is covered."

"Welp, what other reason would you be calling me if not for money? I thought I was the one who had to call you if I wanted to talk," Wes accuses. "Or do you wanna leave the confines of your crypt and come join me at the concert? Leave Blair with Maka and go out for a boys weekend?"

"Hanging out with my brother and probably being dragged to a strip club is tempting, but I'm gonna have to pass. Thanks."

"Suit yourself, but the strippers are the best part about going to another city, little brother."

"I think that's debatable." Soul shakes his head to get himself back on track with the situation at hand. "I didn't call you to talk about strippers. I called 'cause I need advice. Again."

"What happened this time?"

Soul sucks in a long breath before blurting, "I told Maka I love her."

"Congrats!"

"No. Not congrats. I told her while we were having sex, and now she's acting weird. I don't know if she heard me or not, and I'm worried she did and she's avoiding me because of it. And I could really use some of your brotherly advice right about now."

Silence falls on the other end of the phone for a minute or two.

"I'm gonna tell you the same thing I told you last time. You need to come clean with Maka before this whole thing blows up in your face. Sleeping with your best friend who you have feelings for is only asking for trouble, Soul," Wes says, his voice changing from humorous to serious. "As much as I know you wanna be, you aren't like me. You can't sleep around with anyone. You gotta have the whole feelings thing to back you up on it."

"How do you know that?" Soul mutters.

"Little brother, I think you're forgetting we've both been with the same girl before. At least, you tried to be with her and failed," Wes says, his voice tinged with teasing and cockiness.

On his part, Soul blanches. "Liz," he whispers. "She told you about the…"

Soul can't get himself to say blowjob without his cheeks burning and embarrassment swallowing him whole. He lays on top of his bed wishing for a sinkhole to form in the middle of his room and suck him into oblivion so he can live with the knowledge his brother knows about the failed blowjob for as short as possible. Unfortunately for him, he isn't that lucky.

"Yep," Wes says. "She told me about the attempt you two made back in college."

"Please, I am begging you, to never bring it up to me ever again," Soul says into the phone, placing his arm over his eyes. "I'd rather pretend you don't about that."

"Trust me, little brother, even I wish I didn't know, but Liz gets a little talkative when she's drunk… And handsy."

"Moving on, please," Soul begs. He doesn't think he can live another minute of this conversation. "What should I do about Maka?"

"I already told you. Tell her the truth. Come out with it when you aren't buzzed. You've told her once."

"I was buzzed."

"Which is really the worst time to tell someone you love her, too. No girl wants to hear that from a guy unless they're actually dating and he's a sappy drunk," Wes sighs. "Lucky for Maka that's the exact kinda drunk you are."

"I can't tell her, though."

"Why not?"

"Because Maka doesn't love me back."

"And you know that for sure?"

"Yes. Kinda."

"How do you know that for sure?"

Soul sighs and shrugs though his brother can't see. "When we first talked about doing this whole thing she had mentioned something about us not liking each other as more than friends."

"And what'd you say in response?" Silence from Soul. "Lemme guess, you agreed, didn't you?"

"Maybe."

"God, little brother, you're more of a dumbass than I expected."

"Thanks. If I wanted to be reminded of that, I would've called dad instead."

'Welp, I'm sorry to break it to you, but there isn't much else I can do for you except tell you to tell Maka how you feel when you're sober. That's gonna be your best bet."

"I'll see what I can do," is all Soul can say because what Wes is advising is easier said than done.

Maka doesn't love Soul the way he loves her. She sees him as nothing more than a friend, and no amount of confessing or screwing around with her is ever going to change that. If she were to ever love him back, she would have to do so on her own terms.

"By the way, my plane leaves tonight so I'll be coming by to drop Blair off. You are ready for her, right?"

"Yep. Maka already bought cat shit and Claritin for me."

"Tell Maka she didn't have to buy cat shit. Blair does that on her own."

"You know what I mean, Wes," Soul growls while his brother laughs on the other end.

* * *

When Maka comes back from spending the day with Spirit, she finds Soul on the couch with a black kitten curled up next to him. His arms crossed and a scowl graces his face, but the kittens persistent need to be by him is adorable and she giggles. Those bored eyes of his glance her way, half-hearted anger in their gaze, but his features are soft to let her know on the inside he's smiling as well.

"Glad someone thinks it's funny," he says. "She hasn't left my side since Wes dropped her off an hour ago."

"You have to admit it is adorable, though."

Maka drops her keys in the bowl and slides out of her shoes to join him on the couch, tugging the kitten into her lap. Blair blinks up at her, stretches and yawns, before kneading her legs and curling back into a ball and falling asleep once more. Scratching the kitten's soft head, she smiles at Soul.

"Wes left already?"

"Yep. And he'll be back Monday to pick her up so don't get too attached," he tells her. "She isn't gonna stay here forever."

"You act like she's a bother, but she's so tiny," Maka coos as she pets the kitten. "How can you hate something so small?"

"Easily when you're allergic to it."

"She's a kitten, not an it, and when I came in you two were sitting comfortably next to each other with no one sneezing," Maka accuses. "I think you're just being dramatic."

Soul snorts, but the twitch of his lips lets her know it isn't done in vain. They're silent for a moment save for the sounds coming from the TV.

"You're speaking to me again?" he asks. It isn't harsh or accusatory, but Maka still flinches at the obvious being brought up.

"Yeah, I'm sorry about that," she says quietly. "It was a slightly weird week for me."

"You're feeling better, though?"

She waits for him to ask about the love confession, but when he doesn't, she decides to push it to the back of her mind. It's best if she doesn't let it bother her so much.

"Mhm," she hums. "I was on my period so I guess that made things a little weird given… everything between us, you know?"

"I would imagine so." Soul brushes his fingers along the kitten's coat causing her to stretch out in Maka's lap and yawn. "She's kinda cute."

Maka grins and bumps her shoulder into his. "I knew you'd like her. Maybe we can get a cat for the apartment now."

"I wouldn't go that far. I'm still allergic."

"Way to be a party pooper," she pouts.

"I'm allergic, which is a genetic condition, and that makes me a party pooper?"

"Yep," she says, popping the 'P'. "And right old grouch, isn't that right, Blair?"

The kitten only stretches in response, hanging her head over Maka's legs with her front paws reaching out toward Soul who scoots an inch away from her. Maka rolls her eyes and giggles.

"I missed you," Soul says after a moment.

Her gaze lifts to meet his, those deep sanguine eyes of his soft and a hint of a lopsided grin on his mouth. He doesn't show any signs of malice or teasing. The look he gives her is more sincere than she's ever seen before, and it warms her heart, tugs at her heartstrings in the most gentle way. It's everything she wants from him rolled into one. Except the only difference is that he's her friend. Just her friend, and nothing else. A term she'll come to accept later on, she knows, but for now, she'll allow her heart to yearn for something else.

For now, she'll take their quiet, comfortable moments like this in strides.

"I missed you too," she says, placing her hand on his leg.

They end up cuddling up to each other, Blair remaining on Maka's lap, and watch a new series on Netflix together. It doesn't turn out to be sexual, no heavy make outs or touching each other, but Maka doesn't much mind. As much as she enjoys the sex with Soul, simply hanging out with him and savor get the friendship aspect of their relationship is enough. The sex is great, don't get her wrong, but being with Soul like this is worth more than a year of sexual trysts in his bed.

* * *

The sex is great only because afterward when they're both completely spent and tired, they lay next to each other in his bed and Soul gets to admire Maka for everything she's worth.

He gets to run his hands through her hair, hug her to him, touch the small of her back, her hip, without worrying if it's wrong or she'll think he's a pervert. He gets to see her blotched skin, seeing her bare and naked without it being sexual, and it's lovely. The freedom she allows him when they're done having sex is exhilarating and the highlight of his day. It's the one thing he takes in strides and accepts when she gives it to him because he doesn't want to scare her away or make her uncomfortable. Soul loves seeing this part of Maka as much as the rest of her. The part when she isn't insecure about her body.

Soul rubs his finger along her hip bone as he watches her come down from her high. Red marks surround the swell of her breasts from his mouth and teeth had been, her neck littered with blotches he hopes won't turn to hickies the next day. Maka'll definitely have his head if they do. The moonlight streaming in through his blinds dusts her in a white glow that makes her look angelic and beautiful, her hair flailed around her like a halo. She's beauty and grace rolled into one.

It takes everything within him not to pepper kisses on her bare skin until she's in a fit of giggles.

"You missed it, didn't you?" he asks in an attempt to be cheeky and smart.

Maka takes the bait as she smiles and waves him off.

"Oh, don't be so cocky. You aren't that good."

"Really? Because that's not what you were saying a few minutes ago. Weren't you the one moaning my-Augh!"

"Ugh," she shrieks as he rubs the spot she had punched him. "You're such a guy! If I say you're good and praise the way you use your dick on every message board, can you not mention me moaning and or anything related to our sex life?"

"I think I'll be okay if just tell me I'm good and praise me in the privacy of room."

She rolls her eyes, but smiles. "Fine. You're good at sex, and I did indeed miss it. Happy?"

"Giddy," he says dully. "I'm practically jumping out of bed I'm so happy."

"Yeah, yeah. We both know you're the king of snark."

A pawing sound followed by a small meow comes from the other side of his door, and Maka flinches.

"Poor, Blair," she says. "I would have let her stay in here, but I don't want her to be tainted by us having sex."

"Maka, she lives with my brother. I'm pretty sure she's already been tainted."

"Can you let her in?" He makes a sound of protest. "You're closer to the door!"

"She's just gonna sit in here and stare at us. That's what cats do," Soul bitches, but he still rolls out of bed anyways.

"And put your boxers back on. I don't want her to see you naked and be scarred for life."

"It's a kitten not a baby, Maka," Soul says.

It's in poor efforts, though, as he opens the door to let the kitten inside. Blair saunters in, black tail swishing at the air, gives him one look with those beady yellow eyes of hers, and sits down on his carpet to groom herself. Soul looks from her to Maka and back to Blair.

"See. I told you she's just gonna sit here and do nothing."

"What do you expect from her, Soul? She's a kitten not a baby."

She squeals when he goes to grab her foot and tucks it under the blankets, a mischievous smile dancing on her face. He only shakes his head, sits back on the bed and runs a hand through his hair in a feigned attempt to smooth it out. Her own hands had buried themselves in it a less than hour ago. Soul's more than positive it looks like more of a mess than normal, though, he isn't one to complain about it. Maka mussing his hair while he eats her out or teases her tits is more enjoyable than he's willing to express out loud.

"Why don't you play a song?" Maka asks from him behind him, her voice small. Glancing behind him, he cocks an eyebrow in question. "You haven't played a song in a while," she elaborates, "and I miss hearing you play."

"Any requests?"

"You know I don't know your music well enough to give you a name off the top of my head. Why not play one of your favorites?"

He mulls it over for a second. His favorite composition to play is one he had written specifically for her, notes and lyrics and all. She doesn't know he wrote it for her or that she's the inspiration behind it, but he does know it's always been one of her favorites. When she used to pull all-nighters, he remembers her humming the lyrics to help her stay awake or when sleep was on the verge of taking her. Those were the nights he used to live for; falling asleep to her gentle hums like a lullaby.

"I guess I can play you something," he grumbles while he stands from the chair.

Blair's head perks up at the new movement, and she watches him as he makes his way to his bench. He prays she doesn't decide to jump on top of it next to him because the last thing he needs is to get a whiff of cat dandruff and start sneezing. Thankfully she remains sitting on the floor. Those yellow eyes of hers glowing in the light as she watches him, waiting for him to play the first note like she knows exactly what he's doing.

Soul gives Maka one last look to find her own gaze on him, waiting herself, and he starts playing the first note in her song.

* * *

Maka closes her eyes as she listens to the song Soul plays for her.

The melody is soft and melancholic twisting her heart around in ways she doesn't expect and giving her emotions she doesn't usually feel with music. She's never been one to understand a single note or the excruciating time it takes to compose a song either. All she knows about music is what she's learned in her music theory course (which, honestly, Soul had spent a grand amount of time tutoring her on), but none of the classical pieces her professor played for them had touched her like Soul's music does. There's something about his performances that have always given her a sense of love and reassurance, made her happy and lulled her to sleep on her worst days.

Soul's music spoke to her. A term he had tried to teach her through jazz all those years ago because that's the music that spoke to him, but she never understood. Jazz as a genre is a clashing of different melodies and instruments to create one sound that doesn't touch her like it touches Soul which she's come to terms with a long time ago.

What does speak to her soul, though, is Soul's compositions.

They're all performed with the piano, one or two with the accompaniment of Wes' violin, and they're usually a single of echo of sound filling in the void. He puts his heart into each piece he performs, spends weeks upon weeks composing them, and when he performs them, he doesn't hold himself back.

Opening her eyes, Maka watches as Soul's fingers dance across the keys of the portable piano producing the song she's familiar with. It's one he wrote back in college that Liz had sang to for Open Mic Night. A love ballad. Maka had assumed Liz wrote the song for a lover she had dated once upon a time because in her experience, Soul rarely wrote such lovely lyrics. He knows how to string a set of notes together, but words were never his forte. Either way, she finds herself humming to the tune, the words floating into her mind like an old memory, and smiles.

"That's the song you and Liz wrote together, isn't it?" she asks when he finishes.

"You think Liz and I wrote it together?"

"Mhm," she hums. Maka pets the kitten Blair who had snuck into the bedroom sometime during Soul's performance and curled herself next to Maka. "You can't write lyrics."

"Who says I can't write lyrics?"

"You did. And if I remember correctly, writing has never really been your strength. You've always been better at writing the instrumental version of songs."

"That doesn't mean I can't write lyrics," he says, his tone almost defeated. "I could if I try."

Maka smiles as she tightens the blanket wrapped around her and scoops the kitten up in her arms. Blair stirs and meows, her yellow eyes staring up at Maka, but she relaxes when Maka sits down on the bench beside Soul. He pets the kitten beneath her chin, no sign of a sniffle in sight.

"I thought you were allergic," Maka tells him.

"I am, but that doesn't mean I can't pet her." He tugs on the blanket. "But since she's getting fur on this that means I can't sleep with it tonight. Might have to sleep in your bed."

"Nice try, but Blair's been sleeping with me this weekend so I don't think my bed is safe either."

"Guess I'll have to make due, then."

"I could always sleep in your bed if that makes you feel better," she tells him. "And Blair can sleep on the other side of me so you don't get a sneezing fit."

"I miss you sleeping in my bed," he says, barely above a whisper.

"It's only been a week, Soul. It's not like I left or anything."

"Doesn't mean I can't miss you."

She doesn't respond save for a small smile. The faint light from the moon outside sneaks in through the window and dusts his hair in a pale white glow and highlights the lines on his face. Stubble still remains along his jaw and chin, something she had noticed when they were screwing around earlier. Usually she isn't very fond of stubble on men since it's prickly and hurts when they press their face against her, but on Soul, she doesn't mind it. It looks good on him.

Him stilling beside her alerts her to the hand she's placed on his cheek, her thumb rubbing the hair there, and dark sanguine eyes glance down at her. He doesn't say anything or make a move to tell her he doesn't want to be touched. Instead, he presses his forehead against hers and smiles.

"You really enjoy touching me."

Her heart skips a beat at the feel of his warm breath on her skin. She's highly aware of how close his lips are, their movement filling the air between them, and it takes everything within her to not close the gap between them and kiss him. It's tempting, though. So, so tempting.

"I'm going to go put on some clothes so we can sleep," she says, dropping her hand and sliding off the bench before she does indeed kiss him. They may be fooling around, but she doesn't think that means she can kiss him when they're out of the bed. Again. "It's getting late, and I have to go to work tomorrow. And Blair goes back home with Wes."

"Thank god," Soul grumbles.

"Don't act like you didn't enjoy her being here."

Maka doesn't wait for Soul to respond as she exits his room, blanket still around her, and goes to her own. She also doesn't see the longing look he gives her.


	6. I Wanna Be With You

Maka scowls at her phone.

The screen illuminates her face before she's shrouded in darkness once more save for the moonlight highlighting half her face and exposing the glare she throws at whoever text her. He doesn't say anything as she stands from his bed and pulls on one of the shirts draped over his piano. It's been there for a while and it's dirty, but she doesn't bother to sniff it or wrinkle nose at the pungent smell it gives off. That, along with the crease between her brows, is a sure fire way for him to know whatever she had read is bothering her.

He waits for her to bring it up, though.

When she sits on the bed, without saying anything, he takes her sigh as a request for him to nudge her a little.

"Everything okay?" Soul asks.

She glances at her phone again. The screen illuminates her once more as if she's silently wishing for the text to be gone. Her deepened scowl tells otherwise.

"It's Papa," she says, a little defeated. "He wants to meet for lunch tomorrow."

"Why's he texting you so late?" Soul glances at his phone for the time. "It's after midnight. Shouldn't your old man be asleep?"

"He's probably just coming home from fucking one of his booty calls," she spits out, venom coating her voice. "Which makes the text even grosser. I'd rather him not think about me when he has a naked woman who isn't Mama under him."

"How do you know he thought about you during sex? There's a million other things going on in a guy's mind when he's screwing around." She glares at him and lowly growls. "He probably thought about you afterward."

"Ugh, are you defending him now? I'm sorry, Soul, but you don't know Papa. He's a gross, disgusting pig who only thinks with his dick, and regrets screwing random chicks after the fact." She lays once back next to him, folding her arms and glaring at the ceiling. "He's probably feeling guilty for how our last lunch date went. You know he flirted with the waitress the whole time?"

"Maka, I think you're being harsh."

"That's rich coming from you. Aren't you the one who ignores your mom's phone calls?"

"That's different."

"No, it's not. You're ignoring her because she's still married to your dad and you know it's him who wants to talk to you, and I'm ignoring Papa because he isn't still married to Mama. It's the same thing."

She leaves out the part where he kicks himself for ignoring his mom, but then again he hasn't told her as much either. Maka doesn't know he hates having to screen his mom's calls and keep their correspondence strictly to texts because hearing his father's disappointment over how Soul lives his life isn't good for his mental health. He doesn't tell Maka how much he wants to talk to his mom, to hear her bell-like voice telling him how proud she is of him. He doesn't tell her how much it sucks losing one parent and on the verge of losing another.

"Maybe it is the same thing, but at least your dad tries." She opens her mouth to retort, but he puts up a hand before she can. "Let me finish. I know you're dad's a dick and douchebag who can't keep it in his pants for more than eight seconds, but he does try. You've told me that yourself. He's there for you, and he's proud of you even if he doesn't tell you all the time."

Soul brushes a stray strand of her from her face and kisses her cheek. When did it become so natural for him to press his lips to her outside of sex?

"What's it gonna hurt if you go have lunch with him?"

Maka's pout deepens. Soul's positive she's going to refuse to listen to him and start an argument of why she's right and he's wrong. A habit true to her hard-headed character who refuses to listen to logic and would rather go with her gut feeling.

"Maybe you're right," she mumbles. Soul's brow raises in surprise. "But it doesn't mean I have to enjoy going out with Papa or anything. Or be nice to him."

He smiles beside himself. It's adorable how stubborn she can be sometimes. Though, it can be tiring as well, but in this instance when it's not directed to him, she's cute and he ends up kissing her again. She shudders at his touch, and his stomach does backflips at the feel of them.

"Do whatever you want," he says and curls his arm around her middle before nuzzling her neck. "Enough talk about your dad now. I'm tired and ready for bed."

"Not until you put on some boxers or pants. You're still naked." She makes a disgusted noise and pushes him away half-heartedly.

She squirms and attempts to get out of his grasp, but he only tightens his hold around her, lightly chuckling.

"It's not funny!" she squeals. "I don't want to feel your junk on me when I'm sleeping."

"You'll be sleeping. What does it matter?"

"What about when I wake up and it's _touching_ my leg?"

Peeking at her beneath his bangs, he grins and says, "My dick has been inside you, Maka. I don't think it matters by now."

"That's different," she growls, though it sounds more like a kitten's meow. Not at all intimidating. "Just put on your boxers or something!"

Soul kisses the spot below her neck, laughing when she chides him for doing so, before he rolls off the bed and walks to his dresser.

"If it makes you feel better, I'll put them on." He glances behind him and smiles. "You wanted me to do this so you can see my ass, didn't you?"

"Pervert," she mumbles, and the bed shifts as she rolls over onto her side.

Boxers on, Soul makes his way back to the bed and curls his body around Maka's. He kisses her neck and she hums her appreciation that makes his heart flutter. The words 'I love you' float to the tip of his tongue, but he stops himself before he says them out loud. She isn't his girlfriend, they aren't together, and he'll take what she allows him to until she ends this entire thing between them. Silently, he prays she doesn't.

"Good night, Maka."

"Night, Soul."

Her voice is so small, so distant, he feels like that end might be nearing and it scares him. He hugs her closer. The scent of her coconut conditioner invades his nostrils followed by her green apple body wash and hint of sweat. It embeds in his brain and he associates it with cool nights like this and Maka's body perfectly melded with his own. Hopefully when all this ends, the memory will help sustain him in the future somehow, some way.

* * *

The restaurant is different in comparison to the one Spirit had taken Maka to before. There's thankfully a lack of half-dressed girls showing their tits and asses to the male patrons and practically sitting on their laps as they deliver their entrees. Even the menu has a much grander range of food, she notes. She doesn't have to fish through the menu for a healthy plate because all they serve is sports bar food. Instead, there's a convenient section she can choose from which is nice. At least Papa managed to remember she's been trying to eat better food.

But that's as far as her thanks goes.

He still hasn't apologized for his behavior the last time they went out. Maybe Maka's a little selfish and bitter to forgive him, but the old man has to learn from his mistakes. How else is he going to _grow up_ and act his age? Act like a father who loves his daughter like he's always telling her?

"So, anything new since we last met, honey?" Spirit asks after they've given the waiter their order.

Maka scowls and takes a sip of her water, turning her attention away from the man. She debates whether or not to indulge him on her and Soul's late night activities and feed into the exact fears he had once upon a time when she moved in her roommate. His reaction would be priceless. The entire restaurant would probably combust over the sheer force of his anger, and Maka could go home a happier woman knowing she pushed the right button.

She decides it's best not to, though, lest she wants Spirit to also chop Soul's dick off, and she's quite fond of that part of her friend.

"Nope. Everything's the same," she says, not bothering to ask him about his personal life as one does during conversation. She doesn't much care about any of the women he's currently sticking his dick inside of. His dick can be cut off and fed to the hounds and the world would be a much better place.

Faintly, she wonders if she has any half-siblings waltzing around.

If any of them live near her.

"Oh," Spirit says after a minute. "I take it things are going well with you and that boy. What's his name again? Bowl?"

"It's Soul," she snaps.

"Knew it was something ridiculous."

Green eyes flash his way and turn into slits as she glares at him. "It's better than Spirit."

He flinches, and the corner of her mouth curves up into a smirk. Serves him right.

"And if you must know, things are going great between me and him. Much better than you and Mama ever were," she spits before she can stop herself. Spirit flinches again beneath the fire in her voice. "He doesn't come back smelling like someone else's perfume or brings a different girl home every weekend."

 _He's a better man than you'll ever be_ , she wants to say, but doesn't.

"That's good, honey." Spirit keeps his gaze down to the table as he runs a finger along the side of his drink. "I'm glad you found someone who treats you right."

The implication of his sentence makes her want to correct him and dismiss the idea her and Soul are actually together, but Spirit doesn't need to know that. Honestly, the less he knows about her personal life, the better. It also leaves out less for him to meddle into and squeeze his way back into her life. Hovering over her and Soul while they date and telling him all the cliche things a father says to his daughter's boyfriend isn't something she wants to subject Soul to. Especially since they _aren't dating_.

Maka stares out at the other patrons in the restaurant, noting another father/daughter duo a few tables away from them, and her heart aches as they talk animatedly together. Their laughs linger in the air and ring in her ears like a low buzz; irritating and annoying. They look similar together, and it only serves to remind her how much she looks like Spirit. The same shade of eyes, same nose, same freckles, same blonde hair (though, he dyes his). Even their scowls and death glares are the same. She remembers for the longest time she had thought she resembled her mother, but had realized in high school how little truth it hold.

Her mother had black hair and almond shaped eyes and an anger that could split a mountain.

All Maka manages to do is growl weakly and snarl at her enemies. She didn't strike fear like her mama.

"I'm sorry."

Spirit's words come out so small, so quiet, she barely hears him, but her head still manages to snap in his direction.

"I'm sorry," he repeats. His face is solemn and appears to be ten years older with the wrinkles creasing his skin. When he picks up his gaze to meet hers, her heart twists at the sadness and sincerity hidden behind them as he says, "For everything."

Even if she feels bad for the man, she can't hold back the bite in her voice when she speaks. "Care to elaborate?"

Sighing, he sits back in the booth and runs a hand through his hair. "I'm sorry for everything I put you through when you were little. What with mine and Mama's divorce, my infidelity, flirting, all of it. It hurt you a lot more than it hurt Mama, and I'm sorry. I didn't mean for it to affect you so much, and truthfully I wasn't thinking back then, but I see it now. You shouldn't have to see your Papa act that way, and I'm sorry."

A lump forms in her throat making it hard to speak, but she pushes it down. He's never apologized to her.

"Why are you telling me this now?" she manages to say without her voice cracking.

"Because I want to do things right. I know it's been a long time and you still need healing, but I want to be there for you in the future. I don't like not being a part of your life, and since you're growing up more and more every time I see you, I'm starting to realize you aren't my little girl anymore. You're a woman and one day you're going to marry someone you love, and I wanna be there to see it."

Spirit fishes for something in his pocket and leans forward, reaching across the table for Maka's hand, and places something cold and hard into it. When his hand lifts, she looks down to see a simple gold wedding band sitting in her palm.

"I was going through some old things yesterday and found that. It was Mama's wedding ring before she gave it back to me, and I want you to have it." His mouth twitches into a faint smile. "It's nothing special since your mama and I married young and I didn't have a dime to my name, but it did mean a lot to us - _me_ \- back then." He pauses. "Given everything you've experienced over the years and how much you love your mom, I thought it was time for you to have it. I _want_ you to have it. You deserve to have it."

The _more than him_ hangs in the air between them.

Maka stares at the ring, examining it, turning it this way and that way. It isn't anything fancy or flashy; it's simple and elegant. There's a few dark places along the rose colored side of it from wear and tear. Other than that, the ring looks to be in perfect condition. All of the faux diamonds (white and green) are in place and shining as if Spirit had bought the ring an hour ago and the delicate design along the edge swirls down like vines. The inside, though, is what captures Maka's attention the most where an engraving rests.

As if he can read her mind, Spirit says, "The engraving is supposed to be some kind of protection spell a fortune teller had given me. Dunno if it really works because your mom was a strong woman who didn't need protection, but I'd like to pretend it does."

She doesn't mention how it didn't protect her mama from a broken heart thanks to his infidelity. The moment feels too sweet for her to be cynical and mean right now. Her heart twists and jerks, the coldness evaporating as warmth spreads over her chest, and her eyes sting under the effect his words and gestures have on her. He's never been so sentimental and _real_ with her. It's touching.

"Thank you, Papa," she sniffs.

His smile is small, but the tenderness beneath it shines through like a warm summer's day, and Maka's heart gives another jerk under it.

"When I heard Mama was pregnant, I had hoped you'd be a boy," he says, utterly shattering the moment and her mouth twists into a scowl.

"God, you know how to-"

"But I'm glad it was you," he interjects. "I was worried you'd be the type of girl who gets hoodwinked by a guy like me, but you're not. You're smart with a good head on your shoulders, and I'm proud of the woman you've become. That's what I'm trying to tell you. I'm very proud of you, Maka, for everything you've accomplished. You're the best thing I ever helped make in life, and I'm so proud of you."

Spirit reaches across the table and rests his hand over her hand and gently squeezes. A comfortable heat settles across her chest and travels throughout her body like a warm blanket and all she wants to do is cry. She manages to hold back the tears for a second or two before a couple roll down her cheeks. She doesn't bother brushing them off because Spirit cries as well before they're both smiling because they're both idiots. Maybe she gets her blubbering from him; she doesn't have a single memory of Mama crying.

"I know I was a shit husband, but I don't want you to hold that against other guys," Spirit says, his voice soft. "If you find someone you love and he loves you back, I want you to go for it. You are a smart girl, and I know you'll make the right decision when it comes to it. You're a pretty good judge of character."

He pauses.

"I want you to be happy."

An image of Soul flashes in her mind, and the moments they've spent together follow suit. Snapshots of them in his room or on the couch relaxing and enjoying each other company, the comfortable silence that falls between them, float up. She sees bright red shining in the sunlight as he laughs, his dark stare and secret smile when they lay next to each other, moonlight shining in his hair, the subtle moan/sigh when she threads her fingers through the white tufts. It all comes crashing over like a wave. A warm, suffocating wave she can't figure out if she likes or hates because the irrevocable truth is she's _happiest_ _with_ _Soul_.

The only problem is he might not feel the same for her.

Maka chews on her lip, swallowing down the heartache and fear that bubbles up with the realization, and smiles. Or gives what she hopes is a smile.

"Thank you, Papa. That… that means a lot to me," she says.

Spirit only manages to return the smile before their waiter comes by with the food, and they spend the rest of their lunch in full conversation. Maybe it's time for Maka to learn to forgive her papa.

* * *

While Maka goes out to eat with her dad, Soul is dragged out to lunch with Liz who shows up to the apartment unannounced. She ignores his protests and whines about staying inside all day and sleeping his life away ( _that isn't healthy, Soul_ , is her response) and forces him to put on some street clothes since her best friend decided to ditch her to go out with her dad. Of course, he doesn't go without some complaining and moaning as he sits on the passenger side of her car, but she ignores him the whole drive to the restaurant. She reminds him she's known him since college and can see through all of his bitching and gripping.

He hates how true it is.

"You're like an old man with how much you complain," Liz teases as she flips through the menu. "I can't wait for the day you start saying things like ' _back in my day_ ' or ' _you whippersnappers_ '." He's impressed she includes the old man voice. "It's not like we have long to wait since you're almost there what with the white hair."

"Like I haven't heard that enough times," he mumbles.

"Yeah, I'm sure Wes tells you it all the time," she smiles.

A few minutes pass before their waitress comes back to take their orders and they're alone again together. Liz's blue gaze pierces through him as she sips on her straw, and he would think she was doing it to be erotic if he didn't know her by now. It's the same look she gives him when she senses something's bothering him; the same tuck of her mouth as she grins and toys with how to bring the subject up. He's seen it multiple times in the past so he decides to beat her to the punch first.

"If I tell you something, do you promise to keep it a secret?" he asks.

"I can't make any promises before I know what you have to tell me. It might be something good."

"You mean like how you told my brother about the one time we tried to fool around and it failed?" he asks.

Liz has the decency to look embarrassed, a flush blooming over her cheeks and her eyes wide. "How do you know I told him?"

"He told me."

"That son of a-I'm gonna kick his ass the next time I see him," she scowls. "I didn't do it on purpose, you have to know that first. I got drunk one night and it kinda just came out. He asked me about it the next day, and I confirmed it, but I didn't do it to be malice or anything. It was an accident."

"I know," he says, briefly putting his hands up. "I'm not mad. Embarrassed my brother knows about that, but I'm not mad at you."

"Next time you talk to your brother, tell him I'm gonna cut his dick off for telling you he knows."

"I'll make a note of it." He takes a sip of his drink. "So can you keep a secret or not?"

"I can keep your secret," she promises. "I don't plan on getting drunk anytime soon so I think you're safe from any accidental confessions from me. So what's up?"

Soul takes in deep breath, bracing himself, before telling her. "Maka and I have been fooling around… like friends with… benefits sorta thing."

Three emotions cross his friends face at the confession. The first is confusion followed by shock then pure excitement he's scared she'll jump over the table and hug him or do something equally attention grabbing.

"I knew it was you!" she says.

"Huh?"

"Maka told me a while back she's been fucking around with some guy, but she said it wasn't you and I knew it was! I'm gonna need to have a good, long talking with her next time I see her for keeping something this big from me!" Liz tries to bite back the grin spreading across her face with no success. "So, let me guess, you wanna tell her how in love you are with her and take the next step in your relationship, right?"

"How'd you figure that out?"

"Soul, remember when I said I've known you since college?" He nods. "Do you really think I'm so stupid I wouldn't notice my best friend crushing on my other best friend? It's been super obvious you two are hopelessly in love with each other for _years_ , but both of you are too dense to realize it."

"Geeze, that's harsh. We aren't that dense."

"You agreed to fuck your best friend with zero attachments even though you're _hopelessly in love with her_ ," Liz says, putting emphasis on the latter of the sentence. "No one in their right mind is that dumb to agree to such a thing, yet here we are. And what sucks is that Maka doesn't even realize it! The last time her and I talked about this, she had told me she _kissed_ you outside of the sex, and even when I told her she loved you, she still denied it. That girl is the queen of denial."

"Did she tell you I told her I love her?"

He didn't think Liz's eyes could grow wider, but he stands corrected as she gaps at him. "You did what?! She didn't tell me that! When? Give me details"

"A few weeks ago. We were watching Game of Thrones, she was cuddled up next to me, we kissed, had sex, and I told her when I… you know."

Thankfully, she doesn't ask him to elaborate on what the ' _you know_ ' implies.

"You told her you lover her after you both had _sex_?"

"Yes."

"Soul, are you an idiot? You can't just tell a girl you love her - a girl you aren't in a relationship with - that you love her after having sex with her. Especially not a girl like Maka."

"Why not?"

"Do you know nothing about her parents?"

"Of course I do. She told me all about it when we were in college. Her parents divorced because her dad couldn't keep it in his pants, and Maka's hated him ever since."

"And did it ever occur to you that maybe Maka's view of sex and love is fucked up because of that?"

Soul chooses to go silent because it never did occur to him until now. Maka's never been the type of girl who openly talks about romance and dating people. Up until this year she had never really dated, and he doesn't think her blind dates really count considering she ditched all of them. Then again, the reason they had started this entire thing was because she had been thinking of seriously getting into the dating game, something he informs Liz about who scoffs.

"And how many guys has she dated since you two started fucking around?"

"None."

"And did it ever occur to you why that could be? Like maybe she's in love with the guy she's fooling around with?"

"Not really, but-"

"But nothing." Liz leans over the table and places her hand on top of his. "Soul, I'm gonna tell you this as my best friend, and I'm going to be blunt here, but you and Maka are both idiots who are in love with each other. You need to end this thing you two have going on between the pair of you before you dig yourself in a deeper hole and it becomes too much. This isn't healthy for either of you."

Sadly, that's easier said than done.

"I've already told her I love her, and she didn't ask me about it afterward."

"Because she's scared, Soul. She…," Liz trails off and settles back into her chair, chewing on her bottom lip. After a moment or two, she says, "I don't feel comfortable spilling Maka's business like that so I'm gonna save the rest of what I was going to tell you for her to be the one to tell you. I think it would be better that way, but I will say, you need to tell Maka how you feel. It isn't fair to keep this whole thing bottled up inside you while toying with her emotions like you've been doing."

"I haven't been-"

"Sex," she interrupts, "isn't something that can be done without emotions for certain people. People like me and your brother, we can have sex with whoever we want without any emotions because that's how we're built, but people like you and Maka aren't built the same way. Sex is an emotional connection between someone you love. I'm gonna leave you with that to think about."

She takes a sip of her drink, indicating the conversation is over, and Soul is left to mull over what she told him. It doesn't give him answers of how to tell Maka he loves her, but it does give him enough to think about how to push things forward between them.

* * *

When he arrives back at the apartment, he's left with the task of being honest and open with Maka, but he finds it difficult to do so.

He knows he's in love with her, he feels it in every fiber of his being, but the problem isn't him. It's Maka and how she feels about him. She doesn't show any sign of loving him as more than a friend or wanting anything more than friendship between them. Things are stagnant between the pair of them, and he's scared of screwing things up because of it.

* * *

It's later that night, when she's cocooned in a warm embrace of Soul's limbs, she confirms with irrefutable emotions she's in love with him. Her heart hasn't stopped beating since he cuddled up to her, and her stomach is tight with knots. He holds her closer, burying his face in her neck, and goosebumps crawl across her skin even though his breathing is hot with each snore. She can't close her eyes without seeing his silhouette in the darkness. All she wants is to turn and admire his sleeping form, drag her index finger along the angle of his jaw, and kiss him until he's slowly kissing her back.

The emotions raging through her body are torturous and maddening.

They scare her more than anything, though. Scares her because she's willing to give her heart to another man, trust him that he he won't hurt her, and follow the path her mama had taken so long ago. Even with the words her papa had told her that day, she can't help the fear bubbling up within her. Loving Soul is such a different path than what she had expected for herself, but so is the entire embodiment of their friends with benefits relationship.

Sex without the emotions is meaningless and stupid, but she loves it so much. Loves it enough to pretend they're together, that maybe in some alternate dimension he's making love to her because that's exactly what it is to him.

 _Making love to Maka_.

That's what probably scares her the most. They've been screwing around with each other, throwing around terms of no strings attached and a friend doing a friend a favor, when the entire time she's been in love with Soul. For it's never been just sex; it's been something more. It's been her loving her best friend, the man she chooses to love, and the man she wants something more with. Her heart, mind, and soul have been into everything they've been doing. She feels a connection with Soul she's willing to put money on is on par with that of a soulmate. A term she's never really been fond of throwing around because she's a logical person and knows how untrue it is.

She watched her parents fall out of love and divorce each other without a second thought. Watched her papa go out every night to the bar and return home with another woman's perfume on his clothes. Watched her mama frown and belittle him over breakfast for a good five years, and she doesn't want the same thing to happen to her and Soul.

A world where he isn't in her life sounds cold and lonely.

And that's where things get murky and dark and she's unsure of the future and it scares her.

Scares her enough to squash her emotions and stick them into a box and bury them six feet under so they never see the light of day again, but, like most things, it's easier said than done.

If only things weren't so _complicated_.


	7. Unconditionally

Soul stares at the ceiling and counts the glow in the dark stars he manages to see in the dimly lit room until his breathing has simmered. Maka lays beside him, her own breathing ragged and heavy from their nightly activity. He counts the stars over and over, pretends they're the same ones shining in the sky outside, imagines the shooting stars zooming by, but he can't shake the need to tell Maka how he feels. Tingles crawl along his skin from the fear telling her; from the fear of having his feelings be unrequited and her denying him and this entire thing ending.

He's scared, _frightened_ , but it's the right thing to do.

"I need to go pee," Maka says.

The bed dips and creaks as she exits, and Soul seizes the opportunity.

"I love you," he blurts out without thinking.

Her body stilling half way across his room and the time it takes her to respond tells him it's a bad idea. Bile rises in his throat. He debates for a second whether to take it back - maybe he'll finally gain some superpowers and rewind time - but before he can do anything, Maka whirls around. Wide, green eyes flash in the dark, her mouth slightly open as she gaps at him, and a naked woman shouldn't look so _intimidating_.

"What?" she says. Her tone doesn't sound at all angry or ticked at what he said. It's somber. Almost a weak cry.

"I…" he manages before trailing off. His cheeks burn as he rubs the back of his neck before continuing. "I've been wanting to tell you for a while now that I love you, but I haven't-"

"You can't," Maka cuts in. "You can't love me. It's not-"

"What do you mean I can't love you?"

"You just can't," she says, shaking her head like she's trying to remove the memory of his words from it. "Not really. You love me as a friend, and that's it."

"Maka," he swings his legs over the bed and stands, "I love you as more than a-"

"Stop," she says sharply. "Just stop. Don't say it because it's not true, and you know it. You don't-you _can't_ love me."

"Why not?"

"You're only saying that because we just had sex and sex has a way of screwing with your emotions and making you think you love someone when you don't."

Soul blinks once, twice, and tries to make sense of the situation. She isn't reciprocating or coddling or turning his feelings down. More like she's trying to convince herself he can't love her which is ridiculous and absurd. How can she possibly know if he's lying or not?

"What are-"

"Don't try and make things better, Soul. I'm not stupid, okay?" She takes a steady breath in and places her hand over her bare stomach. "When a man has sex with a woman, he tells her he loves her without meaning it because that's what he _feels_ is right. My papa did all that time to the women he slept around with. It's what men _do_."

"I'm not your dad, though," he growls. "I'm nothing like him. I didn't screw around with you along with five other women. I've only been sleeping with you for these last few months, and why do you think that is, Maka?"

"Because guys will screw anyone who lets them."

"Is that really why you think I agreed to this whole thing?"

"Yes. Why else would you have?"

"Maybe because I really love you, and I thought having sex with you would help me get over you? But it didn't 'cause I love you."

* * *

Fear crawls over Maka's skin. An unsettling cold and warmth settles in the pit of her stomach when he says it again - _I love you_ \- and she wants to believe him but she can't. No matter how she tries to spin it, no matter how much her heart tells her to, her mind holds onto the idea that he can't. He can't love her. It's the after effects of their sex making him say these things exactly like the last time. Sex makes a person think they're in love with someone when they aren't.

Right?

"I gotta go," she says after a minute.

She searches the floor for her discarded panties and clothes, and when she finds them, she's quick to pick them up and slide them back on.

"Where are you gonna go?" Soul asks after she's done.

"I don't know, but I can't be here."

Maka adjusts her hair, smoothing out the ponytail before heading down the hallway. Soul's bare feet slap on the hardwood floor as he follows her, and she wishes he wouldn't. She can't hear him continue lying to her and telling her he loves her when she knows it's a lie. He can't love her; he can't be in love with her because they've been fucking each other. A small part of her knew this was bound to happen, but she never stopped and now it's here and she hates herself even more.

"You're really leaving?" Soul asks when she grabs her keys. "You're not gonna stay and talk about this?"

"What is there to talk about, Soul?" Maka asks, whirling around to stare at him and not his flaccid dick because he's an idiot who didn't think to put on boxers. "You need some time to realize you don't love me, and I need some distance from you because this is-"

"What are you talking about?" His voice is filled with anger, and she flinches at the ferocity behind it. "Of course I love you. I know I love you. I've been in love with you since we started this whole thing."

"Then why are you telling me you love me now? Why didn't you say it before we started fucking each other? Before we kissed?" she spits at him. Her own anger rises to the surface in a reflection of his own, and she glares at him and squares her shoulders in a challenge. "If you knew you loved me since the beginning, then why are you telling me this now?"

"Because you said you only loved me as a friend," he retorts. "So what else was I supposed to do? Tell you no 'cause I love you and make things awkward between us?"

"It would have been the right thing, wouldn't you think? To tell me you love before you stuck your dick in me?"

"I only stuck my dick in you 'cause I love you!"

"That doesn't make any sense! A man can stick his dick in anyone without having the need to love them."

"I'm not that kinda man, Maka!" he counters. "Did it ever occur to you that maybe some men need to love someone before they can even think about sleeping with them?"

"That isn't true because Papa-"

"I'm not your fucking dad, Maka! You should know that. We've been friends for almost six years, and I thought of all people you would know me better than anyone."

Maka blinks, absorbing what he tells her, but her remind refuses to believe him nonetheless. Every logical she's been told since she was little doesn't add up to Soul being in love with her. Really, truly in love with her. She knows better than anyone sex doesn't lead to love; she watched her parents argue and fight over her papa's infidelity and him sleeping with women he felt nothing for. She listened to her papa insist he loved her mama for years, but continued cheating on her mama and hurting her.

"I want to believe you," Maka whispers, her voice wet and cracking, "but I can't."

Soul's brows furrow and something crosses his gaze she recognizes as hurt. When he speaks again, his voice is stony and cold. She's only heard him speak in such a manner once before when they were in college and his dad came to one of his concerts which lead to them fighting and Soul succumbing to the disappointment he was bound to remain.

"Fine," Soul says. "Then go. Leave for all I care. You're good at leaving. I've seen you do it plenty of times before so why make this time any different."

"Soul," she says almost pleading.

"You always wanted to be like your mom," he tells before turning on his heels and walking down the hall.

She sucks in a hard breath at his words and reaches for the nearest thing to throw at him but only grasps air. Tears sting the back of her eyes as her hands ball into fists at her side.

The last thing she says before leaving is simply, " _Douchebag_."

* * *

Soul stands in his room and listens as she slams the door. He roughly rubs the heel of his palm at his eyes to wipe away the few tears that escape as every fiber in his body screams at him to stop her. To run out of the apartment and tell her he loves her until she believes him, but a part of him knows it'll be futile. Maka's too stubborn to see things right in front of her and this is something she needs to figure out on her own. Nothing Soul says or does will make her believe him when says he loves her.

Plus, he had said some nasty things to her.

Things she had told him confidence once upon time during their all-nighters when sleep turned their addled brains to mush and the secrets poured out. He had stabbed her where it hurt the most with the comment about her mother. Even with knowing how much her mother's departure hurt her, how much it took for him to convince Maka he wasn't leaving her, he still managed to fuck up by bringing up old ghosts. Maybe that's what he's best at doing; fucking things up.

Sighing, he sits on the edge of his bed and runs his hands through his hair.

"God, I'm such an idiot," he mutters.

* * *

"Maka, what are you doing here?" Liz asks when she opens the door to her apartment.

Maka crosses her arms in front of her and shrinks into the jacket - _Soul's_ jacket - she had found in her car, the remnants of wind and pine feeling her nostrils. She must look like a tired mess after spending the entire drive to Liz's crying what with her red-rimmed and puffy eyes.

"May I come in?" Maka asks.

"Sure, but what the fuck happened?" Her friend steps aside to let Maka in. When she closes the door, she says, "If Soul did something to you, you can tell me, you know? He may be my best friend, but I'm not afraid to cut his dick off."

"Soul didn't-" Maka starts but then stops herself. "Soul isn't the only one at fault here."

"Sit. I'll make us some tea and you can tell me why you look like you've been crying."

She doesn't argue as she collapses onto Liz's worn red couch. A minute or two passes before Liz comes over with two cups in her hand and gives one to Maka who willingly takes it. The liquid inside is hot as it burns down her throat, but the heat of it cools the cold ache in her heart.

"Alright, so what the fuck happened for you to end up on my front doorstep?" Liz asks, not bothering to beat around the bush. Classic Liz Thompson behavior.

"Remember when you asked me who I've been fucking?" Maka asks, chewing on her lip. "And you were trying to figure out who it was?"

The gleeful smirk on her friend's face tells Maka she already knows, but Liz still hums, "Mhm."

"It was Soul."

Liz only hums some more and nods. "Yep. I already knew that because you're little fuck buddy told me a week ago."

Her eyes widen as she says, "He did what?"

"Lay off him, Maka. He needed advice and decided to come to me which led to him telling me about you and him being friends with benefits. Didn't think you had it in you, but I'm impressed." Liz takes a sip of her tea, smiling over the rim. "But I take it things didn't go so smoothly since you're here. On my couch. With eyes that can rival Soul's."

Maka nods, takes a deep breath, and tells Liz about everything that's occurred over the last few months from how it started with a kiss and ending to the events of the day. When she finishes, silence falls between them and Maka waits for Liz to mull over everything she's been told.

"So Soul told you he loves you after you two had sex and you walked out?"

Maka takes a sip of her tea and nods. She sets the cup down in her lap, thumbing the handle as she waits for Liz to comment. Her mind plays out every possible scenario in those few seconds. Either Liz is going to chide her for not telling her about the friends with benefits relationship with Soul or curse her for being such a fool for going through it. Not only did it leave her broken hearted, it also ruined one of the best friendships she ever had. And she isn't sure which is worse.

"God, you're dense," Liz says, prompting Maka to look at her. "All throughout college I thought you were this brilliant girl who had a good head on her shoulders, but you've succeeded in refuting that ideal. Congrats."

"Geez, thanks. As if I didn't feel shitty enough about losing my best friend, you have to sit there and-"

"First," Liz cuts in, "you never should've done the whole fuck buddy thing with Soul. Even when I told you you should've. Sex isn't a thing you can do with no emotions especially when it comes to someone like you. You view sex as something you should do with someone you trust which is no surprise given your dad's a manwhore, so having sex with the guy you love was gonna fuck you over in the end. You're not like me, Maka. You can't fuck someone and be done with it. You need the whole package - feelings, relationship, _trust_ \- which I commend you on. Sometimes I wish I could do the whole boyfriend/girlfriend thing, but it's just not for me."

"Second, Soul is in love with you. He wasn't lying when he told you that. That boy has literally been crushing on you since you two met in college, but he's been too thick to say anything until now. And you're an idiot for not realizing it sooner."

"What do you mean?"

"The songs he writes? The one I sang at open mic night that he wrote? They're all about _you_."

Maka blinks, the information her gives her slowly sinking into the confines of her mind. Her jaw slackens as Liz continues.

"Which is kinda creepy if you really think about it, but this is Soul we're talking about. His flirting style goes under the radar and isn't blunt at all which sucks 'cause his heart is in love with the _densest_ person _ever_."

"That's ridiculous, though," Maka says, shaking her head. "He doesn't love me. He can't."

"And why can't he?"

"Because we're friends."

Liz lightly laughs. "Maka, let me tell you something about Soul. He doesn't sleep around. Those rumors in college about him fucking girls? They're all lies. Soul isn't the suave guy everyone thinks he is."

"Trust me. I know that."

"And he isn't the type of guy who's gonna agree to fuck too if he doesn't already feel _something_. That boy lives off his emotions and expresses them the only way he knows how. Tell me, has he ever done anything to make you think he even remotely loves you during this experience?"

Dropping her gaze to her hot cocoa, Maka watches the last marshmallow slowly disappear as she replays the events of their time together. The simple answer to Liz's question is yes. There have been plenty of times she wanted to believe Soul loved her; the lingering looks, touches, the way he rubbed his thumb over her hip, the times he went out and bought her Ghirardelli chocolate because she was doubled over in bed with pain. They hadn't been done with sexual intents or for meaningless reasons. Soul had done them because he cared. He remained faithful to her even when they were just fuck buddies which is a hell of a lot more she could say about her papa.

So maybe…

"He does love me," she whispers out loud.

"Now we're finally getting somewhere!" Liz says a little too excitedly.

"I made a mistake, then. I shouldn't have left. Oh no," Maka bemoans and places a hand over her forehead. "I fucked up. I told him he was lying and saying it because of the sex. He tried to stop me, but I… He probably hates me now."

"I can guarantee you Soul doesn't hate you. You can go back to the apartment and tell him you love him and apologize for walking out, and he'd still gladly kiss you like a damn mad man."

"I still broke his heart."

"He'll get over it," Liz waves off.

"How can you be so sure?"

"Because he loves you."

Maka opens her mouth to say something, but thinks better of it. They'll only be going around in circles which she doesn't want.

"What I should I say, though?" Maka asks.

Liz smirks before telling Maka exactly what to do.

* * *

"What'd you do?" Wes asks, answering the phone on the third ring.

"Why do you automatically assume I did something?"

"Because I know you, little brother. You don't call me out of the blue just to talk. So spill."

Soul sighs and rolls his eyes. He should have known he couldn't get anything passed his brother. Out of everyone in his life, Wes knew him the best, though, the lack of phone calls Soul made to Wes should've been a big hint.

"I fucked up," Soul says.

"Tell me something new." Soul can practically see the smirk gracing his brother's face as he says it. "What'd you do this time? Better not have anything to do with cops or drugs 'cause you're shit out of luck if that's the case. I'm not dealing with cops again."

"What do you mean again?"

"We're talking about you. Not me," Wes dismisses.

"I told Maka I love her," Soul says after a couple minutes of silence. " _After_ we had sex, and she bailed out saying she didn't believe me. And as much as it pains me to ask this, I need advice on what to do."

Wes is quiet on the other line, the monotonous hum of the TV playing in the background, for a bit before he speaks again.

"That is a tough one. I've never really had anyone walk out on sex after I told them I love them. Then again, I've never exactly told anyone I love them either." Wes sighs. "Guess all you can do now is drown your sorrows in booze and sex and forget about her."

"Wes, that isn't exactly the advice I called you for."

"What do you want me to say, Soul? That you fucked up by not telling her you care for her from the very beginning? That you're an idiot for even going through a friends with benefits relationship with the girl you have a crush on? I told you from the beginning this was a bad idea. Someone's always bound to get hurt when it comes to sexual friendships because, news flash, there are emotions evolved. That whole 'just sex, nothing else' thing is bullshit, and I told you that. So this is your own damn fault."

"That's rich coming from someone who fucks anything with two legs," Soul spits at him. "I didn't call you to tell me how much of a fuck up I am. I can do that on my own, thanks. I called for advice."

"And I'm giving it to you."

"It's the same thing you've told me before, though!"

"Which you didn't listen to and now look at where you're at. Alone in your apartment."

Soul growls under his breath. "No shit, Sherlock. Can't you just tell me what to do to make up with Maka?"

His brother was turning out to be a real pain in his ass.

"Honestly?"

"Please."

"You should've told her you loved her months ago," Wes tells him bluntly. "You're shit out of luck now. Maka's not gonna walk back into your life any more than pigs will ever fly. So just give up. Go get drunk and pay for a lap dance from a stripper."

"Wes, you're really not being helpful at all."

"Welp, that's life when you've done fucked up. What are you gonna do about it?"

Soul opens his mouth to comment, but a knock on the door stops him from doing so.

"Hold on. Someone's here," Soul tells his brother.

"Can't be the strippers. I haven't called them yet… Oh! Maybe you got lucky and they read my mind. Or maybe I have them on speed-text. You'll never know for sure."

He responds with a low groan as he opens the door and feels his jaw slacken upon seeing the person on the other side.

"Maka?"

"Hmm?" Wes hums.

"Hey, Soul."

"Wait! You mean Maka went back!" Wes practically yells into Soul's ear, and he prays Maka can't hear a word of it. "Oooohoho, looks like little brother won't be needing any strippers tonight! He's gonna fuck his-"

"I'm gonna have to call you back," Soul says before hanging up. To Maka, he says, "What are you doing here? I-That came out ruder than I wanted it to… I'm just surprised. I thought…"

If she's phased or angry by his rudeness, she doesn't show it. "May I come in?"

Soul steps to the side to let her and closes the door. He takes a steady breath before turning to face her, but he's disappointed when she has his back toward him. His hand instinctively buries itself in his hair and rubs down to his neck.

"So you came back," he starts.

"When were you planning on telling me the song Liz sang in college was for me? That _you_ had written it? Not her?" Maka accuses, turning on her heels to face him. Soul blinks, completely thrown off by her questions, and he must take a minute too long to answer because she asks him another one. "Well?"

"What do you want me to tell you, Maka? You had praised Liz after open mic night, and I couldn't tell you it was me who had written it. Or that it was for you."

"Maybe not then, but what about now? Like when you played it for me the other night?"

"I did try to tell you," Soul defends. "But you wouldn't listen."

"All you said was that you can write music. How was I supposed to know you were trying to say you wrote that song?"

He opens his mouth to retort, but she's right. He hadn't exactly flat out told her he wrote the song or did anything to convince her he had. How was she supposed to know the truth?

"I guess you're right," he mutters. "How'd you even find out about that?"

"Liz told me. I went over to her place when I left here, and she told me everything."

"Everything?" The failed blowjob comes to mind when she says the word, and his heart feels heavier in his chest. He silently prays Liz hadn't shared that story with her.

"She told me that you really are in love with me and that you weren't lying when you said that. She told me about the song, _all_ the songs, and how you had written them for me. She also told me about the two of you and how you're still a virgin-were a virgin when he started this whole thing," she says. She averts gaze when she mentions the latter and folds her arms over her chest. "I know everything."

Soul doesn't know what to say. All he can do is stare at the floor and wrack his brain for something - _anything_ \- to tell her in response. Maybe tell her why he loves her, tell her about the little things she does that makes his heart lighter and causes his stomach to do backflips. Or tell about all the times he's wanted to kiss her and express how much he loves her through the smallest of gestures. Or tell her how difficult these last few months have been screwing with both her and her heart.

When he finally decides on something, she beats him to it.

"Before we go any further with this, though, I need to tell you something first."

* * *

Maka takes a deep breath as she braces herself for the conversation she knows they need to have before moving forward.

"I don't trust many people in my life, but you, I trust. I trust you above everyone else in my life," she says. Her voice is starting to crack, and she hates the moisture coating her vision. "I love you, and that scares me because it means I'm also trusting you with my heart. I saw Papa break Mama's heart for five years, and I always swore to myself I would never let a man get close to me because of it. But then you waltz into my life and everything changes."

She roughly wipes at the tears streaming down her face before continuing.

"Suddenly I'm introduced to this guy who isn't like the other men I've known before. He's sweet and kind and makes me laugh and brings me coffee when I'm studying and tea when I'm sick. I agree to share an apartment with him because somehow he's become my best friend and weaseled his way into my heart and treated me like his friend for another three years without wanting anything in return." She pauses and bites her lip. "And then I screwed everything up by asking you to sleep with me, and then you told me you love me after we had sex and it scared me."

Maka looks up to meet his gaze, and she hates the lost glaze coating them. It reminds her she's crying. She must look pathetic and sad standing there in their living room pouring her heart out, but she trudges on despite it.

"I don't want you to love me because we have sex. I want you to love me for me, and I want to believe you do, but the sex and-"

"Maka," he interrupts, and she goes silent.

He takes a tentative step forward, pauses to mull over a thought before he closes the distance between them. When she doesn't push him back, he cups her face and brushes his thumbs along the underside of her eyes to take away her tears. They're warm and strong and it takes everything within her to not relax against them because their conversation isn't over. She still needs him to tell her-

"It was never about the sex," Soul says, his voice low and gruff. "I only agreed to do that 'cause I thought you didn't love me. You could have ended it any time, and I would've still stuck around and loved you. For _you_."

Her heart tightens, and she sucks in a hard breath.

"You're the stupidest, smartest girl I've ever met," he continues, "whose stubborn and irrational but also kind and brace. You're someone I admire and love and would give anything to be with because I love you. For _you_ ," he emphasizes again. "I love your shitty taste in music and your need to buy a book every time we go to the bookstore and how you share your food with me and will listen to my music even though you don't understand it. You try to, and that's a hell of a lot more than what most people do. I love spending time with you even if we don't talk and we're both doing our own thing. I love your general presence."

Soul rests his forehead on hers. His gaze is hard, dark, as he stares down at her; that secret smile of his ghosts across his mouth and her heart flutters. She feels the warmth of his breath fill the space between them alerting her to how close his lips. All she needs to do is lean up a bit and she can mold them together and soothe the aching in her heart.

"I know what your dad did to your mom is shitty, but you have to trust me when I say I won't hurt you like he did. I love you, Maka. I love with every fiber in my body, and I'd rather stab myself in the eye before I ever hurt you because hurting you would be worst."

A comfortable heat wraps around her, and she believes him because she trusts him.

"Soul."

"Metaphorically, of course. I don't actua-"

"Soul."

"-lly mean I'll stab myself in the eye. That's insane. What I'm trying to say is-"

Maka cuts him off by gripping the collar of his shirt and tugging him down for a kiss. It's chaste and short. Nothing too heat inducing or suggestive, but it's everything she needs at the same time. A lasting comfort that he does truly love her.

"I know," she says when she falls back to her heels.

She threads her hand through his hair, the white curls soft to the touch, and he leans into her, eyes fluttering closed. So serene; so calming. The familiar heat crawls over her stomach and up to her chest when he places his hands on her hips, his deep crimson eyes opening to meet hers again, and her heart bursts into flames under the intensity of it. His lips brush over hers like feathers before they press against them for another short kiss, but she wants _more_ ; wants to taste him, feel him, give him every emotion he drives within her.

Snaking her arms around his neck, she pulls him in for another kiss and swipes her tongue along the seam of his lips asking for entrance. He gladly opens his mouth in acceptance, growling when licks his teeth and teases him, and molds their hips together. She rubs her thighs together to find she's wet and horny; the complete opposite of what she had been going for, but she'll take it. Soul _loves_ her, _he really loves her_ , and the sex isn't why he stayed, she knows that now.

He cups the underside of her rear, squeezing it and drawing a small, feline moan from her before she wraps her legs around his waist and lets him take them wherever.

It's ironic, really, how they end up in his bed stripped of their clothes and Soul's face between her thighs. She also doesn't complain, though, as Soul languidly licks and fingers her pussy, drawing out every moan and weak of his name she makes. Through her foggy, muddled brain she is able to figure out how this sex is different in comparison to what they'd been doing before.

Before, it had been meaningless screwing around with your best friend who you love and adore but accept the fact they don't love you back. They had been holding back the love they felt for each other, only allowing themselves a small taste of indulgence, of false hope, that this person they're in love with and fucking might love them, but knowing afterward they don't.

Now, though, it's different.

Soul enters her slowly, the intense fire burning in his eyes as he holds her gaze, and a loving, warm fire rushes through her as he fills her. They sigh contentedly together when he relaxes on top of her, accentuating each thrust with a promise filled kiss. For the first time, she feels his love wash over her. Their souls connect with a thin red line sending shockwaves of his beating heart to her own, and she's close to bursting at the seam. His hands grip her hips as he buries his face in the crook of her neck, his breath hot, and she feels herself growing closer and closer to the edge each time his cock glides into her.

The kiss on her collarbone and the quiet 'I love you' he whispers against her skin is all she needs.

Sooouuulll," she croons out like a song, her voice rasp and tight.

* * *

Her walls tighten around his cock, and all Soul can manage to do is grunt as he reaches his own orgasm.

He collapses on top of her, holding her to him and feeling the rapid beating of her heart as it echoes his own. The pure joy and happiness bubbling up in his stomach is intoxicating. Soul doesn't mind it happening every time they have sex because Maka fucking Albarn loves him. She loves him, and nothing can change the excitement it draws from him. It's everything he's dreamed and hoped for the last three years - probably even longer - and now that it's here, he holds onto it and cherishes it.

Kissing her forehead, Soul slides his cock out of her and lays next to her on the bed. His hand finds the dip of her hip and rubs along her bone enjoying the slight shudder she releases.

"I didn't think you were ever gonna sleep with me again," he rasps out.

"You got lucky," she tells him.

The bed creaks as she rolls onto her side and hovers over him, those green eyes penetrating and begging. He instinctually threads his fingers through her hair and pulls her down for a small kiss.

"I love you," he whispers. "God, I fucking love you."

"Really?"

"Yes," he tells her simply.

Maka's eyes search his own, and he knows she finds what she's looking for when a smile ghosts her face and her green eyes brighten and she leans down to kiss him back.

"I love you, too," she whispers.

They end up making love again.

Except this time it's with more kisses, more whispers of 'I love you' and more caresses of intimate parts of each other.

* * *

They lay there afterward, both completely spent, their breathing coming out in tired pants. Maka moves her sore legs into a position where they feel more comfortable, closes her eyes and runs her hands through her hair. She attempts to steady breathing but to no avail. Next to her, she heard Soul doing the same thing in his own fashion of ways. It's several minutes before she's ready to speak again, and a shaky laugh erupts from her as she flips onto her side to face Soul.

"What's so funny?" he asks, still breathy.

"We did things the wrong way," she states. "We're supposed to tell each other we love the other, date a while, and _then_ have sex. But we're doing it completely backwards."

"You say that like it's a bad thing."

"I know it's not. It's just not how I pictured this happening."

Soul flips onto his side to face her, his hand resting on her hip to pull her closer to him. Flickers of heat course over her skin where his fingers dig into her, and the familiar desire bubbles up in her lower abdomen.

"Look at it this way." He gives her a half sharp grin. "We bypassed the awkward sexual stuff and can have sex whenever we want."

Rolling her eyes, she says, "True."

Maka reaches up to stroke along his jaw. The slight stubble resting there pricks her fingers like like a spiky cactus for a few moments before she threads her fingers through his hair. He hums at the feel, his eyes closing as she massages his scalp, and she scoots a tiny bit closer to him. Muted freckles dot his nose and cheeks like constellations in a night sky that she starts to connect with her eyes. White lashes rest on top of tanned skin making him serene and beautiful before they open to reveal his deep burgundy gaze boring into her.

"Eight dates," she whispers. "What if we say we'll go on eight, real dates before we sleep together again that way we can say we did things somewhat normal?"

"If it means I can be with you, I'll wait a whole year."

She laughs, tugging him closer so their noses touch and she feels his lips ghosting against hers.

"You can be so cheesy sometimes."

"But you love it."

No words are exchanged as she presses her lips against his, slanting to mold with his and moving in time with him. It starts out chaste and simple before Soul kisses her back, hard and rough. She digs her nails into his scalp as he pulls her body closer to him; their limbs twist around the other like vines as her heart feels lighter, freer, and everything feels _right_. From the heat stroking her body to the flutters in her chest, everything pieces together like a puzzle, and she doesn't remember a time she's been happier. Soul loves her, she loves him, and nothing can be better.

They break away, both breathing hard. The faint light from the blinds illuminates his face, coating it in a light glow that highlights the freckles along his nose, the scars, and his plump, pink lips. Maka smiles as she admires her handing work and outlines the bottom of his mouth with her finger before moving up to stroke it along his jaw. It's strong and pronounced, tightening at her touch, and he audibly swallows. She feels the soft beating of his heart beneath her finger; notes the way his breathing is more rigid compared to before.

Lifting her gaze, she meets his deep, wine colored stare. His eyes are lazier than normal, more relaxed and calm than what she's used to, but they still manage to strike a fire around her heart. She squirms a little beneath his tense glare, uncomfortable with what they do to her body and the story he tells her with no words. They're filled with love and want. Two things that scare her more than anything given her parents past together, but she knows with him it isn't like that. Soul isn't her papa; she isn't her mama. It's a different kind of love her and Soul have for each other. A love that's stronger than what her parents had because this love is real and genuine.

She smiles slightly. The fear building in her simmers beneath the calming waters of hope.

"Guess this means we should look for a one bedroom apartment when this lease is up," she says.

"What if you get tired of me and wanna be alone?"

"Then I'll throw you out to stay with Wes."

"That's cruel and unusual punishment," he groans.

Maka giggles as she kisses the tip of his nose. "I guess that means you'll think twice before you annoy me from now on?"

"Can't keep any promises."

"You could at least try," she says with a small pout.

"I'll think about it. How's that?"

"It's still not good enough, but I'll take it." She rolls off him and to the edge of the bed where she gets up, the sheet draped around her body and heads to the bathroom. "I'll be back. I need to pee."

The mattress creaks behind her and arms wrap around her waist to pull her back to the bed. She squeaks at the impact that turns into a small gasp when Soul kisses the space between her shoulderblades and she feels his hand brush over her breasts as he removes the sheet from her. Her heart skips a beat his touch and she swallows thickly. A familiar heat boils in her lower abdomen, but she pushes it down, squishes it until it's merely flakes of embers. They made a promise of celibacy for eight dates. There's no way she's going to cave into it now.

"I'll be taking this," Soul says.

She sits completely naked on the bed as the sheet leaves her. A blush blossoms over her face when cold air touches her skin, and she hates how perky her nipples get because she can sense Soul's cheeky grin behind her.

"Wouldn't want to leave me naked here, would we?"

"No," she says, glancing at him over her shoulder. Her arm comes up to cover her chest when she confirms that lazy smile of his, the one coated in smugness and sharp teeth, is there. "You'd rather me be the one naked. Perv."

"You don't have a flaccid dick right now, either. It's embarrassing when it looks normal," he mutters.

Mustering up her courage, Maka stands from the bed and walks with her head high toward the bathroom, keeping her arm over her chest. "It's not like I haven't seen it like that before," she says over her shoulder.

"Your ass is cuter than my dick, though."

He chortles when she squawks and flings her arms to her rear as if it'll cover it up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading this fanfic!! I hope y'all enjoyed it!!


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